


Freeze This Moment In A Frame

by hot_damn_louis



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, One Direction
Genre: M/M, This is like a hunger games/ one direction crossover, but the games that Louis and Harry participate in are fictional, like Katniss and Gale still exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hot_damn_louis/pseuds/hot_damn_louis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry just wants to protect his family. Louis doesn't want to marry Eleanor. Somehow, Louis and Harry just fit. </p><p>Aka Hunger Games au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freeze This Moment In A Frame

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, my special Christmas gift to everyone. Sorry that this didn't go up earlier, I still had last minute edits to make this morning. 
> 
> Huge thank you to Kezia, for being my beta despite not actively being in the One Direction fandom.  
> Thank you to everyone who sent in an idea for my 12 Days of Christmas contest. You guys rock.  
> Thank you to everyone who supports my fic by leaving Kudos and comments. Without you guys, I don't think this fic would have been possible. 
> 
> As usual, I decide to choose the most dramatic au just so I can write sad dying scenes. This is also my baby, which I have been working on for about four months. It is also probably the longest continuous piece I have written. Ever. 
> 
> **Warning!** This fic has graphic descriptions or violence and major character death. Also, there is homophobic language and slurs, specifically coming from one character. The homophobic language and slurs appear closer to the end, but are present almost throughout. Violence doesn't particularly happen until they're in the games, but still. 
> 
> Questions? Comments? Prompts you want me to write? My tumblr is [here](http://hot-damn-louis.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Title is from Truly, Madly, Deeply. 
> 
> Sorry for the super long notes. I will precede to shut up so you can get on to reading.

Harry scrubbed the dirt from his dress shirt, dunking it under the soapy water again as he attempted to get the small coal stain out of the front of his shirt. It was what happened when you lived in a district that was all about coal mining. Harry glanced over at the three sleeping bodies that lay in the bed next to him, their bodies curled against each other despite the heat that had already started making things miserable. Harry sighed deeply, scrubbing a bit harder on the shirt, smiling when the black fled from the white fabric, making the white shirt look generally white instead of a blotchy mismatch of colors. Harry’s mother crossed the room, settling behind him. Her hands fell onto his shoulders, smoothing down the shirt that was currently on his back.

“It’s your last year, baby. Don’t worry,” his mother said, leaning down to press a kiss onto his temple. His scrubbing stopped temporarily before starting again, a bit fiercer than before.  

“Don’t. I’ve got my name in for each of them, every single year since they were born. That is six for Kate, five for Elisa, and four for Thomas. Plus one for Gemma, and one for you. My name is in there more times than anyone else, I think,” Harry whispered, his shoulders sagging with stress. “And then Dad left. Went and killed himself in the mines. He stranded us, mum. Forced you and Gemma to work harder than you had to just to scrape by. There isn’t a day when I don’t wish things were different, especially for those three.” Harry turned to look at his mother, his body still sagged on the ground.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” his mother started, but he stood and pushed past her, taking his shirt with him. He put it down onto the small table in the front part of their house, laying it flat so it would dry correctly.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going out to the Hob. I’ll be back,” Harry said quietly, tucking his feet into his extremely worn out boots, the leather soft under his hands. His mother watched him as he left the house, his hands stiff at his sides, his bag slung across his body, the old baby clothes from the girls inside. Harry hoped to sell them, if not trade them for something small. He needed salt, thread, and some cheap fabric for the girls. They needed new clothes. They needed a lot of stuff.

By the time Harry got to the Hob, it was just starting to clear out. There was only a few stalls that were still open, including Greasy Sae, one of Harry’s favorite people to trade with. “Just got a few old baby clothes,” Harry said to her, pulling his bag around to pull out the stack of the best baby clothes he could find. She pawed through it, checking the quality before taking the stack, handing him over a few coins and three black wool hats. Harry knew better than to haggle with Greasy Sae, considering that it was a very good deal for the things he was trading. “Anyone got any fabric?” Harry asked, stowing the hats into his bag.

“Just Niall, down at the end. Some fabric and scraps that he is trying to get rid of. Might be able to haggle him some,” Greasy Sae responded, pointing to a guy at a stall. Harry nodded, said his thanks, then strode over to the stall, brushing his damp curls back with his hand.

The guy, Niall, looked him up and down before saying anything. “You’re the triplet’s brother,” he said, looking him right in the eye. He had a scar that ran the length of his cheek, from the outside corner of his eye to the corner of his mouth. He didn’t say anything about it, though.

“You must mean Kate, Elisa, and Thomas,” Harry responded with a smile, turning up the charm and letting his dimples show. He bit his lip, clasping his hands together.

“We just call them the triplets, considering that they all look the same. I got a bit of fabric scraps that I saved for them, along with some durable stuff that might last through the winter. They are darling, and always come help me sort fabric scraps when your mother goes to her shop. She sometimes leaves them with me,” Niall said fondly.

“So you’re the Niall that takes care of my siblings,” Harry said with a grin, his hand reaching out to touch some light canvas material on the table in front of him.

“This is what I’ve got,” Niall said, pulling out a small woven basket with folded pieces of cloth inside. There was smaller pieces of red and yellow cloth that stood out vibrant, and then bigger pieces of strong, durable canvas-like material that was a dull gray. Harry handed him a few coins, and took the cloth out of the basket, leaving it folded in his bag.

“Good luck at the reaping today,” Harry said to Niall, handing him a few coins. Niall looked at the coins before pocketing them.

“I’m too old. Nineteen right now. Luckily, I inherited my parents clothing shop, so I don’t have to work in the mines,” Niall replied, nodding at Harry. “Me pop worked in the mines for years, but died last year, and me mum got the flu and died only a few months before him. I’m glad that I have this to fall back on. And a good luck to you.”

Harry nodded at him solemnly, like they understood each other, before Harry walked away, the feeling of items heavy in his bag. Harry shoved the bad feeling into the back of his throat, his legs tired and his shoulders heavy with sleepless nights and stress.

***

Back at his house, Harry changed into his nice shirt, wearing the cleaner pair of pants he owned, pushing his hair into some form of style on his head, with the curly parts swept over his forehead. His three siblings all jumped up and down as his mother put them in nicer dresses. They fawned over the new fabric, especially his mother, who examined each piece like it was the best thing in the world. The kids loved the hats, putting the wool over their heads and messing up their hair. It didn’t matter for them, though. They weren’t the ones who had to be on camera for the entire nation to see.

Harry didn’t feel like eating anything, but still graciously accepted the cooked eggs that his mother served him. The hen and rooster in their backyard was probably the best thing they ever invested in. They could also sell the eggs for cheap around the neighborhood, which was an added benefit. Harry pinched himself to keep from saying something snarky about how the chicken coup didn’t look clean, or that his mother didn’t bother salting the fish he brought back, but Harry didn’t say anything. Not today.

As a family, including Gemma and her new bloke, they walked to the city center. They handed Harry off to the guards, where he stood with all of the other 18 year old boys, his head kept ducked under the heavy cameras. He could see one of the girls from a few grades under him, Katniss Everdeen. Their dads were killed in the same blast, leaving both families fatherless. Katniss was talking with another boy only a year or two younger than Harry. He knew it was Gale Hawthorne, one of the pretentious boys that all of the girls loved. Harry was loved throughout the school, but not nearly as much as the girls loved Gale.

By the time Effie Trinket took the stage, Harry was sweating underneath the sun, his curls slightly damp on his forehead. He pushed them back into a half-quiff, his own sweat acting as a gel. It was the typical ladies first spiel, with a familiar fourteen year old girl taking the stage with her round cheeks and flighty hands. Then it was the boys turn. Harry stared at the glass container holding the names. He wondered how many said his name on them. He wondered what percent of the container was just his name, written in block letters across the slip of paper. Before Harry knew it, she was reading the boys tribute slip.

“Harry Styles,” Effie announced, her pink wig bobbing on her head. He could hear a loud gasp in the back of the crowd, where he knew his mother was waiting. There was complete silence as Harry shuffled into the aisle, taking the few steps towards the stage. As usual, no one bothered to say anything, keeping the complete silence as Harry mounted the stage. His feet shuffling was the only sound as he turned to face Effie on the stage.

“Our tributes from District 12!” Effie cheered, grabbing Harry’s hand and the girls hand and raising them in the air. Harry forced a grin on to his face, scanning the people to look for his mother and Gemma and his three other siblings. The audience stayed mostly silent except for the slow slapping of palms against palms as they clapped half heartedly at the two on stage. Harry felt a pressure on his chest, like two rocks sitting in his lungs. He followed the Peacekeepers instructions to sit in the lavish room to say goodbye to his family.

It seemed like forever, waiting for family and friends to come. The lush velvet couch Harry was sitting on was a dark blue and very soft underneath his fingers. The room was large, larger than the main room at his house. There was the couch he was sitting on, a small glass and wood table in front of him, and a couch on the opposing side, with small, stiff chairs closer to the door. There was small tables throughout the room with vases on them containing flowers that were unnaturally bright. Harry pinched his thigh, trying not to cry. He couldn’t believe the unfortunate events that had struck him. While he was pondering this, the door burst open with three wailing children, his mother, and Gemma.

“My baby,” his mother sobbed into his neck, pulling him into a death grip so tight he was struggling to breathe. Gemma wrapped her arms around both of them, pulling them tight to her frail body . When his mother finally let go, wiping tears from her cheeks, he paid attention to the three little children with their eyes wide open and their faces red from crying. Harry knew that they had no idea what was going on, and that they were only crying because his mum was crying. Harry sat back down, beckoning everyone towards him.

“Now, Elisa, Thomas, and Kate. I’m going to go away for a while. I’m going to go off to a place, and hopefully get some more goodies for you guys, alright? I might not be back for a long long time. I want you three to be on your best behavior for mum and Gem, okay? Understand?” Harry said to the three. They all nodded in unison, their hazel brown eyes shining with youth. He ran a hand over each of their heads before pulling them in for a hug individually. His mother was back to sobbing, her tears landing on the velvet couch heavily.

“Gem, I know you don’t brave the Hob often, but there are two vendors there that will help you. Greasy Sae and Niall will help you find cheap goods and fresh cloth for the girls. Greasy Sae knows who to talk to for cheap meat cuts. Please find them, because they are some of the people you will need right now. If I don’t ever come back, then don’t have them sign up the oil and grain. You can make it with the eggs. You are an exceptional singer, sister. I hope that you will utilize that,” Harry said to his sister, pulling her in for a tight hug.

“Mum, you’ll do alright,” Harry said to his mother, not knowing the words to say to her. He pulled her in for a hug, rubbing her back sympathetically. The Peacekeeper showed up only moments later, pulling them from the room and replacing them with one boy, Gale. The Gale who was in an eerily similar situation, with younger siblings. The Gale who hung out with Katniss and snuck into the woods after school. The Gale who got jealous whenever anyone talked to any of his siblings or Katniss.

“I just wanted to say that you inspired me to move on. You taking care of your family helped me take care of mine,” Gale said, he sat for a moment longer before pulling something out of his pocket. “These are flowers from the Meadow. I thought you would like them,” Gale said, holding out the bunch. “I wish you luck, and I hope you make it home safely.”

“Thank you, Gale,” Harry said solemnly, biting his lip. Gale nodded and stood, exiting the lush room. Harry remembers a day when Gale and him were friends. When they used to run through the meadow with sticks in their hands, pretending to sword fight, Katniss and her father watching with grins on their faces. Or later on, when they would go walk by all of the shops in the square, pressing their young faces to the glass to get a better look at what was on the other side. Harry sighed at the nostalgia washing over him. He waited and waited, and no other guests came to say goodbye. Not even the boy he had been eyeing at school for months now. Disappointed, Harry paced the room, walking from one end to another, weaving through the furniture. When the Peacekeepers finally collected him, he felt like he had worn a hole in the carpet. They shuffled him outside and to the carriage, which would drive him to the train station, which would take him to the Capitol.

The female tribute, who he found was named Cantara. She had a dark complexion, with dark black hair and dark skin, with eyes as black as the coal they mined in District 12. She barely gave him a second glance as they got into the carriage, her callused hands and wide shoulders distracting Harry. She didn’t bother looking at the people outside the carriage, or the camera following them. She just silently cried with Effie Trinket blabbing on.

The train was more luxurious than Harry could ever have imagined. The other girl, Cantara, plopped into a chair and promptly started shoving small pastries in her mouth. Harry didn’t know where she got the pastries, or even why she had them, but she was shoveling every single one of them in her mouth. Disgusted, Effie shook her head, turning to Harry.

“Do you want a tour, Harry?” Effie asked, clapping her hands together excitedly.

 “Sure,” Harry said, brushing imaginary dirt off of his shirt. He followed Effie around as she pointed things out. Mainly she pointed to wooden furniture and said, “Mahogany.” That table? Mahogany. Those chairs? Mahogany. It seemed as if every wooden feature in the train was mahogany. Besides that, she showed Harry where they would eat and told him what time to be there, then showed him to where he was going to be sleeping and left him there. Harry lay back on his bed, his stomach rumbling with hunger but his body feeling as if he was going to throw up his minimal breakfast. Harry wanted to be back home with his family, and make sure that they could make it on their own. Harry also wanted to win, to earn money for his family. To make their lives easier. He wanted everyone’s lives to be easier.

Before Harry knew it, he had dozed off. He awoke the next morning to the smell of cooked eggs and freshly baked pastries, and he followed the scent to the dining car, where Cantara and Effie were already sitting. There was another man sitting there, who Harry could only assume was Haymitch Abernathy. Harry only had one experience with Haymitch before. He was in the Hob, and Haymitch was trying to buy liquor. The woman he was trying to buy from refused his money, claiming he was too drunk. Haymitch, in a fit of anger, pushed past Harry, nearly knocking him off of his feet. Harry never forgot that, but apparently Haymitch did, because there was no recognition in his eyes.

“Well. Here is our two tributes for this year,” Haymitch said snarkily, with underlying tones of sorrow. When Harry sat down, he glanced up and down Harry’s skinny body, from his prominent collar bones to his knobby knees in his pants. “Eat up, boy. You’re going to need it.” Harry glanced at the table, seeing the array of food. There was things he had seen before, like the pastries and eggs and toast, but then there was also exotic looking vegetables with soft skin that Harry assumed was fruit. They looked like the fruit that was on cans. There was also things Effie claimed were juice, and a thin brown liquid that smelled terrible, which was coffee, according to Haymitch. They ate in silence, Cantara scooping food with her hands and trying so hard not to be messy. Harry at least tried with the fork and knife, although he didn’t often use them at home because of the nature of his food. Haymitch glanced over him again, looking him up and down.

***

When they finally arrived at the Capitol, Harry was surprised to see screaming fans outside of the train. There was a surprising amount of teenage females waiting for him, their brightly colored outfits and wild hair bouncing as they jumped up and down. Harry didn’t question it, though. He just stood at the window and waved, causing more hysteria. Grumbling, Haymitch exited the train and crossed to the waiting car with no problem. Cantara went next, her hair greasy and stringy looking in the bright lights. Before Harry went out, he grabbed the strip of fabric from his pocket, tying his greasy curls onto his head, pulling them back with the makeshift scarf. Effie eyed him but pushed him out the door into the screaming crowd of girls, Harry waved politely, blood rushing to his cheeks. He walked quickly through the crowd, ducking into the car just as some girl tried to pull on his shirt.

“Is it normally like this?” Harry asked Haymitch, his hands rubbing nervously over each other.

“You’re a looker, Harry. Play that up,” Haymitch answered, rubbing his chin. Effie entered the car, glancing at Harry’s hair, her gloved hands fidgeting with each other.

“That is cute, what you did with your hair,” Effie said finally smiling politely at him.

***

Louis bit his lip as his train pulled into the station at the capitol. His fellow female tribute, Eleanor, tried to smooth her hair down, but it was tangled and matted. Louis quickly walked over, parting her hair and smoothing it himself. “There you go, darling,” he said, patting her on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry about your sisters,” Eleanor said, her voice cracking. “They are wonderful girls, and so talented. I know that they will make it work without you. And, if you don’t make it home and I do, I promise to look out for them,” Eleanor added, blushing and looking down.

“Eleanor, that is wonderful. Thank you,” Louis said honestly, smiling down at her.

Louis had two sisters, Charlotte and Felicite. They were only two and three years younger than him, but he still worried about them a lot. They were all he had, besides his mother. They were both also extremely talented swimmers and divers, and would no doubt make good fishers when they got old enough to keep the job. Louis’ knew that his mother and their father would take care of them. Biting his lip, Louis helped Eleanor to her feet, brushing lint off of her shirt gently. El had been his next door neighbor for years. When Charlotte’s name was pulled, she volunteered. Eleanor didn’t have a mother, and her father was so consumed by drinking that he couldn’t be bothered to take care of her. Eleanor was like another part of the family, just like another one of Louis’ sisters.

As the train stopped, halting quickly, Eleanor slipped her fingers between Louis’ giving his hand a gentle squeeze before walking towards the train doors, shaking her hair out. It was curled from the braids Charlotte and Felicite had put in the night before, after El’s bath. Her hair looked gorgeous with the strands wavy and wild. It made Eleanor look fierce, rather than worn down and worried. Louis followed her to the doors, their mentors close behind them. Eleanor smoothed one hand over Louis’ cheek before stepping out of the dark train and into the bright lights of the train station. Louis followed dutifully, the bright flash of cameras and sunlight stinging his eyes. There was a crowd waiting for him, girls screaming his name, people yelling and chanting as he walked the short distance across the platform to the awaiting car. He waved at a few people, smiling brightly, trying to maintain some form of sunny disposition as he entered the car.

Louis pressed his forehead to the warm window for the duration of the drive, the tinted glass preventing people on the outside from seeing him. They still yelled at the car as it passed, shouts of glee. Louis shook his head disgustedly, trying to find some form of saneness in the world of crazy that he was plunged into. By the time they reached the Training Center, Louis felt as if his head was going to explode. Eleanor rubbed his shoulder slowly, letting her flingers dance over the tense muscle.

Louis and Eleanor were shuffled inside the Training Center, their mentors handling the buttons on the elevator and everything. Louis tried not to hyperventilate on the elevator, but the view through the glass floor as they soared 4 stories was positively sickening. Louis was breathing heavily, his hands on his knees, when the elevator stopped. Louis stumbled off and promptly threw up onto the soil of a fake potted plant, the rich breakfast making a second appearance.

“That’s disgusting, Lou,” Eleanor said, rubbing Louis’ back absentmindedly.

“Shut it, El,” Louis replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand sloppily.

***

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. It was such an amazing palace that they were staying in. It was much nicer than the rotting shack that they lived in. The carpet was soft and fluffy underneath his bare toes. The drapes were a heavy velvet that blocked out all sound and light. Harry couldn’t believe that any of this was real. His bedroom was lush and green, with dark walls and bright lighting. Before he could even throw himself onto the bed, Effie was in his room, tugging on his hand, chirping, “Time is ticking!”

Harry was shuffled, with Cantara, to the elevator, downwards. The elevator didn’t stop at the ground floor, but went into the ground, dinging loudly in the small space. Effie pulled him and Cantara out, handing them over to waiting Capitol people. Harry was given over to three loud women, each with different bird-like qualities about them. One was wearing a bodice made entirely of green feathers, and her hair was laced with the same green feathers. Her nails were dark green, and her earrings were also green feathers. She introduced herself as Alma, and proceeded to hum loudly. The second woman introduced herself as Evana. Her skin was tinted a light pink, and she had dark pink tattoos around her eyes that made them sharper. The tattoos almost looked like feathers. She was thin, with long thin legs and a tiny waist. She resembled a flamingo, one of the exotic birds Harry had only read about. The third woman introduced herself as Vesper, and was pale. So pale, she looked white in the harsh light. Her hair was stark white, with a single white feather sticking out of the top of her bun. She was wearing all white, with white fingernails and delicate white tattoos around her wrists. Harry wouldn’t have noticed the tattoos except for the fact that her hands were near his face.

“We aren’t supposed to throw away the scarf in his hair,” Vesper said, obviously the one in charge. “We are supposed to keep it and give it to Portia.”

“I can’t wait to work on you!” Evana chirped, her hands fluttering over Harry’s hair as she untied the scarf in his hair, pulling it away and moving it to a small table beside the bed Harry was sitting on. She gently guided his shoulders back, sliding his head over the edge of the table and over a wash bowl. Immediately she started washing his hair, scrubbing the oil and dirt out of it. Once she was done, she commanded him to strip and bathe in the large tub the other two had prepared. His hair felt oddly heavy and the water in the tub felt slick and oily. Harry washed off his body in the tub with three different soaps as they handed them to him. Then he got out of the tub, shiny and clean. They had him dress in a flimsy pair of cotton shorts, but nothing else. His chest was waxed, his eyebrows plucked down so they looked clean instead of bushy. They slathered a thick, tar-like substance over his cheeks, chin, and upper lip. It stung, the thickness hardening across his face. After what seemed like forever, the scraped it off, smoothing lotion over his face.

“Ouch,” Harry complained, rubbing over his sore chin. “What does that do?”

“Prevents facial hair from growing while you’re in the arena,” Vesper answered plainly, smiling at him. After trimming his finger and toenails, he was told to wait in another room for his stylist. Harry felt uneasy, the smell of the soaps flooding his nose. He wanted to throw up and curl into bed rather than be prepared for the parade march.

Finally, after waiting, his stylist came in. It was a younger woman, her hair chopped into blunt bangs and gold rings covered her fingers. She had aqua green eyes and cinnamon brown skin, her arms and legs thin, her torso small. She was wearing a deep purple dress with a stiff bodice and a skirt that stuck out stiffly. “My name is Portia, and I will be your stylist,” she said, sticking out her hand for him to shake. He shook her hand, his sweaty palm sticking on her smooth skin. She laughed, smiling with bright white teeth. “You must be nervous.”

Harry nodded. Instead of saying anything else, she studied him, her head tilting side to side to take in his nearly naked figure. His ribs jutted out unnaturally, his hip bones sticking out of his torso. His body was very lean, almost too thin, with light muscle poking out of his skin.

“You need to eat. Take advantage of the food here, you’re going to need it. I want to see you gain some weight while you’re here,” Portia said finally, stepping back. “Now, you know how people usually wear clothes from their district? That includes coal miners. Well, I don’t want you to wear a clunky helmet to cover those curls, so instead we are going to give you a headlight on a headband instead, teasing the curls so they fall just right on top,” Portia added, crossing to the other side of the room to pull a large garment bag towards Harry. She unzipped it, pulling out a thin pair of jeans, a tank top, and a headband, everything a dark black. The pants and tank top had red stitching, and when she pulled over a slim pair of work boots, they had red laces too. “I want to show off your figure, rather than hide it behind baggy clothing.”

“Sounds good to me,” Harry replied. Harry slipped on the pants, pulling them over his legs. They clung to his skin, tight around his legs. The tank top was tight, clinging to his thin torso. As he laced up the boots, Portia grabbed her make up kit, dragging it over to the seat where Harry was sitting. Portia sat across from him, pressing a button on the underside of the table. The table split in half, and a full meal rose from the table, steaming hot. It was slices of bread with cheese and tomatoes on top, a thick creamy red liquid in bowls that Harry could only describe as soup. There was dark green pickles, a small bowl of chopped fruit, and some crunchy looking sticks in a small basket. Harry couldn’t even fathom getting a meal so grand at home, especially trying to serve six people in his house.

“Grilled cheese and tomatoes, tomato soup, fries, pickles, and fruit salad,” Portia said, gesturing to the food as she said the names. Harry immediately dug in, chewing thoroughly on each bite to prevent himself from stuffing everything in his face. The drink that was provided was a bubbly, orange tasting drink that was a bright neon orange. “Orange soda,” Portia said when she saw Harry staring.

“Everything is just so… extravagant,” Harry said finally after he finished his bite of food. “I mean, I couldn’t even think about eating something like this at home. I have three sisters, a brother, and a mother to feed. Its lucky when everyone gets a full meal instead of giving the food to the younger ones,” Harry explained, trying to ignore the rumbling in his stomach. He continued eating, trying to fill himself.

Portia nodded understandingly. “That is the difference between you and me. I grew up to think that this was a normal life. That eating richly was what we were supposed to do all the time. I didn’t know the difference until I was your age, when I realized that others didn’t live as good as I did. That’s why I became a stylist. I want to make sure you have a good impression on the capitol, so maybe you could win and bring pride to your district,” Portia said, sipping her drink in between sentences.

Harry sat baffled for a moment before finishing his meal. He couldn’t believe the kindness he found in her, rather than the tired, general laziness of everyone in the world. Even back home, people just complained about how life sucked, but didn’t do a single thing to change the way it was. Harry swiped away a few stray tears before he stood, ready to finish getting ready.

After Portia was done with him, he looked like a mature older man. His face looked rugged and smudged with the fake grime Portia smeared artfully around his face. His hair was accented by the headlight headband, his curls springing free playfully. Harry even smelled nice, musky and manly with just a hint of soap. It was perfect for him, except for the fact that he was practically being marched to his death. “Remember, smile! Show those dimples,” Portia said before he stepped onto the horse drawn carriage, the coal black horses patient as Harry struggled with the steps. The ink black carriage was elegant and beautiful with blood red horse reins.    

Cantara was dressed in a skimpy black tanktop and black jean shorts, knee high orange socks sticking out over her boots. She had the headlight on, her eyes smudged dark with makeup, but her face remaining clear besides that. They were both wearing more makeup than a tribute would typically wear for opening ceremonies, but maybe that was the point. Maybe they were supposed to stand out, with their charcoal tank tops and onyx black jeans. Most other tributes were colorful, which made Harry and Cantara stick out. District Two was wearing gold spandex, with their bodies shown off by the skintight material. District Four was wearing blue spandex shorts and tops with seaweed like fabric hanging off of them artfully, showing their lean swimmers bodies. Maybe that was the theme this year; wearing as little clothing as possible.

When they finally started the procession of carriages towards the city center, Harry was starting to sweat profusely. His armpits started to feel damp just as the horses started to move out of the training center and towards the open doors on the other end of the large hall. Harry gulped nervously, but put on his face for the crowd.

***

Louis smiled and waved, knowing that his sisters would be at home with their eyes glued to the small tele screen they had. His mother would look fondly on the screen, tightly knitting her fingers together to hide the fact that her hands were shaking the whole time. His step father would rub his mum’s shoulders, but fret just as much over the kid he had finally started recognizing as his own. Louis looked at the blurred faces of the crowd, splashes of color and darkness blurring his vision. He couldn’t read the signs they were holding up, or hear what they were shouting, but they were enthusiastic and Louis would be too.

Eleanor was shaking next to him, the fake seaweed on her shorts shimmering with the slight trembling that had taken over her body. She didn’t glance at Louis, but instead kept her eyes on the crowd, blowing kisses and smiling as if nothing was wrong with the whole situation they were in. Eleanor was supposed to be the one that stuck around for the girls when Louis couldn’t, not die in the arena with him. It was a pact they had always made, but then again, no one was going to volunteer for Louis’ sister except Eleanor. How unfortunate, both Louis and his sister being chosen in the same Reaping, but it happened, especially in a place where very few girls took the extra tesserae and most males of the household took the tesserae for the entire family.

Louis could only think of how Eleanor was so kind to the girls, and how he didn’t want her to die. She was his best friend. Everyone assumed they were to get married and have kids later. Louis didn’t want her to go anywhere. But, then again, Louis couldn’t deny the nagging in the back of his brain. The odd feeling he would get when Eleanor would hold his hand in a romantic sense. Louis never felt romantic with her, but rather platonic. Eleanor was just like one of Louis’ sisters, and Louis couldn’t see her any other way.

On the other hand, the boy from Twelve was cute. His dimples practically drove Louis mad, and all Louis wanted to do was lose his fingers in the mass of curls atop his head. His eyes looked dull and lifeless as he smiled, and Louis knew that look well. It was the fake look that Louis used whenever he was feeling down or hyper aware of his mortality. Louis wanted to kiss his plush lips and push away all his sorrows, whisking him away to somewhere else where Hunger Games never existed.

But then again, there they are, in the parade towards the city center.

They circled the city center, heading back the way they came, Louis’ carriage briefly side by side with Harry’s carriage. Louis stared at him longingly, and was surprised when Harry winked back at him, a little smile on his lips. Louis had a more genuine smile now, bouncing on his toes as he continued the ride back to the Training Center. He really wanted to see that boy again, the one from Twelve. He wanted to just talk to him, at least.

***

Harry was surprised at his own confidence as he passed District Four. He could see the beautiful boy eyeing him from a ways off, and decided that maybe he was worth a second glance. The boy had hickory brown hair with caramel highlights, swept off to one side with the tips of his hair sticking upwards. His body was tanned from long days on the boat, but his cheeks were still rosy in color. Harry had known for a while that he didn’t quite like girls, but this sealed it. This beautiful boy was who Harry wanted to be with, if he wasn’t going to die a bloody death in the next two weeks. Harry wanted nothing more than to run his hands over his smooth arms. Harry’s eyes caught on the swell of his bum underneath the fake seaweed, his butt curving perfectly in the blue shorts he was wearing. Harry pinched himself to keep from looking again.

Harry felt guilty all over for letting himself think about someone like that while he was being marched to his death, but at the same time Harry didn’t care because he was being marched to his death. Why not have a little fun first? Cantara looked at Harry skeptically from the corner of her eye, still smiling and waving at the crowd. “Be a little obvious,” she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Harry to hear her. Harry shot her a look, but she was already giggling, just like Gemma would in the same situation. When Harry looked back to the boy from District Four, the boy was staring right back. Harry held his aquamarine eyes for a few moments before Haymitch tugged on his arm to pull him backwards, towards the elevators.

Harry stumbled as he turned around, following Haymitch dutifully even after Haymitch released his hold on Harry’s arm. Harry rubbed his arm absentmindedly as he followed Haymitch and Cantara onto the elevator, Haymitch’s stare cold and Cantara’s smirk playful. The moment the elevator doors shut, Harry’s slight frame was shoved back up against the cool glass of the inside of the elevator, his spine pressing uncomfortably to the flat glass.

“I thought I was lucky. I thought this year I would have two tributes who knew what to do with themselves. I thought I had two tributes who knew better than to openly check out another male in public. I thought I had a tribute I could sell, but now I just have a goddamned gay tribute,” Haymitch growled under his breath, his forearm pressing on Harry’s collarbones. His breath stunk of alcohol and garlic, a toxic combination.

“What’s wrong with Harry liking boys?” Cantara whispered meekly, her voice carrying across the smalls space. Her body was folded in on itself in the corner, her arms wrapped around her small torso, her shoulders naked and pressed against the cool glass. Harry ducked out of Haymitch’s gift and took the step towards Cantara, wrapping his thin arms around her shoulders and drawing her to his chest. She cowered into Harry, and they both glared at the man who was their only ally in the world at the moment.

Haymitch must have realized what he had done, or saw the scared looks on his face, because the tension dropped from his shoulders almost instantaneously, his arms dropping limp at his sides. He ran a dirty hand through his greasy hair, blowing out a sharp breath. “Sorry,” he muttered, turning away to hide his face. It only took a moment before he was back with his tough face back on, glancing over at the pair. “Now, Harry, just control yourself while you’re here, alright? You’re a pretty boy, and I have no doubt that you will get sponsors.” Harry nodded along, his hands fidgeting in front of him. Harry wanted nothing more than for the elevator ride to be over.

***

The next day, Louis awoke to loud singing in his bedroom as Eleanor pranced around in a turquoise cotton long sleeve and a dark blue vest on top. Louis sat up to see sleek, skintight stretchy cotton in the same color as the long sleeve. Eleanor was singing the special ‘Wake Up’ song she always sang when getting Louis up for school in the morning. Her shoes were simple boots with thick rubber soles, the thin leather an unnatural blue that reached her mid-calf.

“I really hope I don’t have to wear that for training today,” Louis muttered, sitting up and rubbing the hair off of his face. He pushed the thick, downy blanket off of him, exposing his nearly bare legs to the crisp chill of the air around him. “Now, if I’m going to get ready and eat in time for training, I gotta get moving, El. You gotta get out of my room.”

“I’m getting out!” she sang, flitting from the room flirtatiously. She left his door hanging wide open on the frame, and her boots stomped down the fluffy carpet that surrounded his bed. Sighing, Louis swung his legs out of bed, digging his toes into the smushed carpet. Standing shakily, the sleep slid from his body slowly, seeping from his pores with every step he took towards the bathroom. On the bathroom counter, he found a pair of thin cotton shorts with the slightest bit of stretch, and a soft long sleeve shirt in the same color as El’s. his vest fit snugly over his chest, and the boots slipped onto his feet comfortably. Louis felt a bit ridiculous, with the matching shorts and shoes, but the color almost matched his eyes, and Louis couldn’t deny such a perfection.

***

Harry slipped on the stiff black pants, pulling the black t-shirt over his body and sliding the red vest onto his torso. His shoes were a matching red, with orange soles. Harry always felt like clown in anything besides the various tones of grays and blues that things were often dyed back home, that the solid black and red were startling to see on him. There was a red bandana with his pile of clothes, which Harry quickly knotted into his hair. The curls were lying flat compared to the day before, sticking closer to his head, but they looked nice among the bright bandana. Harry fiddled with his fingers as he walked out of his room and into the dining area of the large flat that was their temporary living space. Haymitch was nowhere to be seen, but Effie was bright as usual, her pink wig a neon pink rather than the muted pink she had worn last year. Her suit today was a coral pink, with a light yellow button up shirt and light yellow heels. Her nails were the same color as her hair, and all together Harry thought she looked like a mess.

“Morning,” Cantara said between big bites of food, the crumbs of the rich blueberry muffin spilling from the corner of her mouth. She was wearing a similar outfit to Harry’s, except with cotton leggings and a long sleeve shirt. Same dark black colors, and same red vest.

“Why do our clothes match?” Harry asked Effie as he drug a chair out from under the table noisily. The legs of the chair scratched against the wood floor, causing Effie to wince. Harry plopped into the chair, immediately digging into the muffins on the table.

“Well, the Gamemakers want to know which district a certain tribute comes from without having to search for them. Each of the district’s get a unique color combination. You guys are lucky because you’re the only group that gets black and red. All of the other color sets are awful dreadful, in my opinion,” Effie said, speaking quietly, her mouth barely moving. She smiled at Cantara and Harry, her teeth an unnatural white that couldn’t possibly be her real tooth color.

While Harry felt quite silly in the outfit, Cantara looked like a real athlete. The leggings accentuated her thin legs, hugging every muscle she had from running everywhere. Harry always watched Cantara run everywhere. Around the schoolyard, between school and home, and even for fun as Harry fixed various things around the house or went for walks around the houses. Harry couldn’t recall a single time where he had seen Cantara do anything except run, except for Reaping Day.

While Harry didn’t like exposing his too thin arms with thin muscle, Cantara had just started gaining muscle in her shoulders and back, making her look older than she was. She was an only child, and thus a lucky one. She had a bit more money than the rest of kids at school, which meant she ate a bit better. She filled out her shirt and vest fully, looking strong. Harry felt as if he looked weak, but maybe he could play the weak thing to his advantage.

“I’m kind of glad we match, Harry. I don’t know what I would do if I stuck out like a sore thumb,” Cantara said between bites, nudging Harry’s foot underneath the table. Harry grinned at her, food in his teeth, his rosy lips quirking upward.

“C’mon now, not too much breakfast,” Effie said, pulling a third muffin out of Harry’s hand, tugging on his arm as if to tell him to stand up. Harry stood, and so did Cantara, with Effie walking towards the door of their living quarters. “It’s the first training session!” Effie chirped, clasping her hands together. Harry walked towards her, his boots squeaking against the smooth floor. Cantara followed behind, her long hair swinging behind her in two braids, the ends hitting her back. They followed Effie dutifully out of their living space and into the glass elevator that awaited across the hall, Effie’s high heels muted against the carpet, but sharp against the glass floor.

“I’m nervous,” Cantara said into Harry’s shoulder, leaning into him. Her body felt warm next to him, her shoulders quivering a bit as she spoke. Instinctively, Harry reached up and around, encompassing her shoulder with his arm. Effie tapped a perfectly curved nail against her lips, looking out and down at the Capitol. Her lips were pursed, her eyes concentration on something in the distance. When Harry looked, he saw nothing, just large buildings. He looked back to Effie’s face, but she already had a smile plastered on, smoothing her suit lapels down as the elevator slowed to a stop. When the doors slid open, Harry was faced with the open, concrete expanse of the Training Room. Effie shoved them out of the elevator politely, her gloved hands touching the smalls of their backs gently.   

“Have fun, kids!” she cheered. When Harry looked back, she was waving her gloved hand as the elevator doors closed in front of her. Harry turned to look back at Cantara, but she was already walking towards the group of people huddled and waiting. Harry took two jogging steps towards the group before just walking, trying to watch Cantara as she weaved through the much taller people. He didn’t realize how tall most everyone was compared to her. While Harry could look most of them in the eyes, Cantara’s head hit about shoulder height. When Harry had finally caught up with Cantara, she was stopped in front of the District 4 tributes, her eyes shining bright.

“I just absolutely loved your opening ceremonies outfits,” Cantara gushed to them, holding her cheeks. Harry looked at the boy, the cute boy, and the girl standing next to him. They looked like brother and sister, maybe even twins.

“Why thank you!” the girl said, leaning down a bit to look Cantara in the eye. “My name is Eleanor, but you can call me El. And, I love your outfit today. You look quite adorable.”

“My name is Louis,” the boy said, sticking out his hand for Cantara to shake. Cantara took it gently, smiling up at him with red cheeks.

“‘m Harry,” Harry mumbled, smiling at him. He reined the smile back in, because it was starting to stretch across his face from ear to ear.

“Well, Cantara, why don’t we talk away from these silly boys,” El mock-whispered, tugging gently on her arm. Cantara followed, jiggling and bouncing as she walked. El looked back at Louis and gave an almost unperceivable wink. Louis blushed slightly, but quickly regained his composure.

“So, impending death,” Louis said, nodding his head. After the words left his house, he wanted to slap his forehead for saying such a stupid thing.

Harry looked mildly uncomfortable, which Louis found kind of cute. “Ah. Yes. And I also liked your opening ceremonies outfit, by the way. And your shirt matches your eyes,” Harry said, reaching up to brush imaginary lint from Louis’ shoulder.

“Aw thanks!” Louis said, punctuating with a smile. Just as Louis was about to compliment Harry, a lady towards the front of the room stood on some boxes, calling everyone to attention. While she was giving her speech, Louis was staring at Harry’s profile. The curve of his jaw, the way his hair was sideswept and in a bandana. Louis had to look slightly up to see his profile, but he didn’t care, because he found Harry to be just adorable.

Louis didn’t hear a single word of the speech, which unnerved him. He wasn’t prepared for the stations, or how it all worked. He turned to Harry for a slight explanation, but just found Harry smiling down at him. “I didn’t catch a word she said,” Louis admitted, shrugging.

“Just explained how easy it is to die. But, I mean, we are going into a death arena in only a few days so I doubt anything we do here is going to help us in the least bit,” Harry said, his slow, deep voice, his cheeks round and almost cherub like. Louis could see the sorrow in his eyes, even if Harry didn’t let it leak onto the rest of his face.

“Pessimism never got anyone anywhere,” Louis said matter-of-factly, holding his shoulders broad and his stance wide. Harry slumped into himself, his thin arms and legs all slumped forward. He looked as if he wanted to be a much smaller guy, but he wasn’t.

“Anyways, Louis, I think it’s time for training,” Harry said, gesturing to the other tributes and their positions at stations. Harry wanted to punch himself for purposely putting distance between Louis, but he waved lightly and went to where Cantara was tying knots. When Harry looked back at Louis, Louis’ feet were in the same position, and he was still looking at Harry. Even when Harry made eye contact, Louis didn’t turn away. He even smiled slightly, until El pulled on his shoulder to get his attention.

***

“Well, Lou. I knew it. You like boys,” El said matter-of-factly while they were finishing up the firemaking station, each of them have successfully made a fire. It was just about lunchtime, and Louis felt famished. El stood in front of him with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face.

“Fuck, El. Shout it to the heavens, why don’t you,” Louis whispered back harshly, wanting her to lower her voice. “It’s not like I’m telling anyone, and I’m certainly not now,” Louis added, shoving past El to walk towards the dining area. He passed through the small doorway to the cafeteria, El hot on his heels.

“So, you want to fuck him,” Eleanor said with a wicked smile, her eyes lighting up.

“Look, I don’t even know if I’m going to kiss this boy. He is a guy who is cute, and flirty, and I’m going to die in a few days anyways so I doubt it matters,” Louis said solemnly, grabbing a tray from the stack and sliding it along the metal counter in front of the food. Louis grabbed random items and stacked them on his tray, not paying attention to what he was eating. Eleanor followed behind him, loading up with about one of everything.

“Live it up!” Eleanor cheered, pinching Louis’ side with her nails. “Even if we are only on this Earth for a few more days, then I say we live it up.I say we eat as much as we can, and we do what we please because this is my final days. And anyone who says otherwise can suck my metaphorical dick,” El added, sliding into a chair, prompting Louis to sit in the chair in front of her.   

“Christ, El. Got a sailor’s mouth on you,” Louis said, looking down dismally at his mismatched plate of food in front of him.

“Well, I am a sailor’s daughter,” she said, taking a huge bite of the creamy rice in front of her. Louis almost choked on his own saliva, surprised at El’s quick wit.

“When did you get so witty?” Louis asked, putting some form of bread in his mouth. He chewed it, not enjoying the density.

“When you stopped,” El said, more seriously this time. Louis stopped chewing at looked at her for a moment, the corners of her lips turned downward and her eyes without joy. Louis continued chewing, having no idea how to cheer up the girl who had always cheered herself up.

***  

The next day, training was almost the same as the first. The main trainer gave a small speech about how life is dangerous, and then released them to do mindless tasks while they awaited their death. Some people, like Louis, had acquired some skills from fishing, while others, like Harry, were useless with just about any weapon besides a knife. Cantara was the only girl not in the Career pack that knew how to throw a knife, or swing a sword around. Harry didn’t know where Cantara picked up these skills, but she looked badass while doing it, and she managed to catch the Gamemakers attention.

It was lunchtime again, with Harry’s hands sore from tying rope for the past hour. He sat across from Cantara, with Louis and El sitting next to them. Louis sat next to Harry, leaving Cantara and El to whisper to each other. While Harry was mindlessly stirring his hot soup, he hummed under his breath, some song that was playing quietly in his bedroom while he slept the night before. Before Harry could finish the chorus and loop back into the verses, Louis gripped his arm.

“Your humming is absolutely spot on with the song that was playing throughout our flat last night. Do you sing or something?” Louis asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“Yeah, I can sing,” Harry said with a weak smile, ducking his head to hide his blush.

Cantara perked up. “When he sings, the whole world stops to listen, and the mockingjays can’t help but repeat,” Cantara said poetically. “But then again, when Katniss’ father was alive, he could really sing,” Cantara added quietly. “I always wondered if Katniss had the voice of her father.”   

“Mockingjays?” El asked, looking between Harry and Cantara.

“Katniss? Who is Katniss?” asked Louis, staring intently at Harry’s profile.

“Katniss is this young girl from our district. Probably about the same age as Cantara, but she isn’t important. Mockingjays are a mix between Jabberjays and Mockingbirds. When the Capitol used Jabberjays to spy on the rebels during the Dark Days, the plan backfired. The Jabberjays could copy whole conversations, but the rebels outsmarted the Capitol and sent all of the Jabberjays back with false information. The Capitol put all of the remaining, useless Jabberjays into the districts. Since all of the Jabberjays were male, they mated with the female Mockingbirds to create Mockingjays. Mockingjays can’t repeat conversations, but they can pick up human melodies and create a nice chorus for a song. And everyone stops to listen to the Mockingjays,” Harry explained, picking at the raw skin on his hand.

“And apparently you sing so well, that the Mockingjays repeat your melodies,” Louis repeated, looking dumbfounded. “Well, c’mon then, sing something!”

Harry looked pathetically at Cantara, but he knew that she wasn’t going to bail him out of this one. He started slow, with some light humming, but progressed into the melodic song that repeated itself throughout the Training Center without fail. The chorus was simple and happy, and the verses simple to remember, so Harry managed to sing the whole thing without messing up once. When he was done, Louis had the biggest smile on his face, a smile that went from ear to ear and made his eyes crinkle with delight. The whole room clapped as well, hooting at Harry and his magnificent singing voice.

“Harry, that was absolutely beautiful,” Louis gushed. Anyone in the room could see the fondness that Louis reeked, and Harry had a smile to match Louis’, all because Louis was a cute boy that complimented his singing voice. But something deeper pulled at Harry’s heart, something that couldn’t be washed away by Louis’ gorgeous smile. If anything, the tendrils in his heart grew larger and longer the more time Harry spent with Louis.

***

The third day of training was tense, with snappy remarks between tributes and angry shouts between tributes and trainers. Harry did his best to steer clear of the hot headed tributes, but Louis couldn’t help but get a bit aggravated too. After a trainer’s baton slipped and hit Harry hard in the side, Louis screeched at the trainer until he gave Harry a proper apology, threatening his life and such. Harry felt honored, blushing and staring at Louis during the whole debacle, but he couldn’t help it. It was the first time anyone had ever stuck up for him. Afterwards, Harry wrapped his thin arms around Louis’ waist and pulled him in for a tight hug, squeezing Louis against him firmly.

After lunch, a tense lunch with Louis’ stiff at the table and Eleanor being too sick to eat, it was time for the evaluations. Harry, being from District 12, would go second to last, with Cantara going last. Harry knew that she would blow the socks off of the Gamemakers, but Harry didn’t know what to do except sing. But that wasn’t a practical skill. Maybe Harry would just dance around awkwardly until they dismissed him. He didn’t quite know yet.

While sitting in the isolated room, the harsh lights too bright, Harry wasn’t allowed to sit near Louis, but instead just sat next to Cantara, her fidgety hands flighty on her legs. Harry and Louis had a staring contest, Louis pulling funny faces and Harry giggling like a fool. This went on until it was Louis’ turn, and then Harry had no one left to goof off with. Then, soon, it was just Harry and Cantara sitting there, her thigh pressed against Harry’s, her body trembling slightly. When it was his turn, he hugged Cantara tight to his chest before leaving wordlessly, crossing the threshold into the next room, his heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings as he walked through the stations to the main area of the Training Room. The Gamemakers were all sitting around, their plates piled with food, laughing and talking with each other. None of them seemed to see Harry walk in.  

“Harry Styles?” Harry said cautiously, his voice rising up into a question. “District Twelve,” he said more firmly, almost commanding their attention. A few looked over, as if to say to continue. During all of the training sessions, the only skill Harry picked up was knot tying, but since that wasn’t an exciting skill, Harry was almost dumbfounded to what he should do. Then, before the pause got too long, Harry strode confidently over to the rack of bows, picking out one with a stiff string, one that made a sharp sound when he plucked it. He walked back to the center of the room, no arrows in hand. Sharply shoving the tip of the bow into the soft matt, he plucked it at an even 4/4 beat, tapping his toes along. After two measures of the beat, he started to sing, his post pubescent voice gliding out of his mouth like honey.

The song he sang was one that he had heard hundreds of times, one that was filled with sorrow and wistfulness. It was a song that his mother and sister sung after every particularly sad death during the games before. The song had a jaunty tune, but Harry slowed it down, drawing out the notes. His breath was kind of shaky, but it made the song more believeable, with his eyes downcast and body slumped. He knew he had the attention of every Gamemaker in the room.

The song was about a girl who had a lover who went off to war. Each of the three short verses talks about every year he is gone, until the last verse where it says he was killed during battle. The chorus had a simple melody, but also had a haunting line about how she is going to join him someday. It was eerie, and oddly beautiful at the speed Harry was singing it.

By the time he was done, it was silent in the Training Room. Silent for a moment before the Gamemakers collectively clapped, their hands coming together loudly. Harry couldn’t help but blush, biting his lip. Once the clapping was over, he was excused, releasing him into the care of a pair of Avoxes assigned to take him back to his room.

***

“How’d it go?” Haymitch asked during dinner that night, shoveling delicate bites of curry and rice into his mouth like an uncultured swine. Bits of curry dribbled down his chin, and instead of booze in his glass, he had water. Maybe the food shoveling was because his lack of alcohol. Effie looked positively disgusted, though, covering her mouth with her hand every time a bit of curry dripped out of his mouth.

“As good as it could go,” Cartana said solemnly. “They ignored me half the time, except when I was throwing knives and hacking stuff up with swords. Then they paid attention. I got four out of five knives on the bullseye. I mean, I guess it went well,” Cantara added, reporting her experience.

“I sang,” Harry muttered, almost too low for anyone to hear.

“Repeat that again, Harry, I didn’t hear you,” Effie said politely, picking at her food like a bird.

Harry bit his lip gently. “I sang. To the Gamemakers,” he said, louder this time, audible for everyone in the room. While Cantara smiled at him, patting his knee proudly, Haymitch hastily swallowed his food, pounding on his chest, while Effie just looked plain surprised.

“Sang?” Haymitch repeated gruffly, wiping his face on a napkin. He rubbed his dirty stubble, looking at Harry with confusion on his face.

“Yes, Haymitch. I sang a song that my sister and mother used to sing whenever a particularly nice tribute would die. And I might have also used a bow as an instrument,” Harry said, his voice slow and fluid, his hands fiddling with his fork. “I don’t have any fighting talent, so why should I waste that time doing something I’m bad at? I thought we were supposed to showcase my talent, and singing is mine,” Harry added when no one spoke.

“I mean, that isn’t a bad thing, right?” Effie asked, turning her attention to Haymitch. “He can do that? I mean, he can sing?”

“There isn’t anything against it,” Haymitch said with a shrug, glancing between the three sitting at the table. He continued eating, in silence this time, being more mindful of his food and where it went. Harry, feeling relieved, started eating the meal he had only been picking at. Even Effie, who barely ate any of her food, was starting to actually eat, closing her eyes with every savory bite.

That night, when the scores aired, Cartana got a 9 and Harry got an 8. Effie insisted that they Avoxes bring out a second desert.  

***

Harry was woken up early, earlier than he usually would be, just for preparation. Three morning hours of interview prep with Haymitch, and three afternoon hours of prep with Effie. It was almost torturous to think about, and he couldn’t imagine how either thing could take up all three hours of allotted time. Harry, not knowing exactly what to wear, slipped on a pair of soft black pants that clung to his skin, and a plain white t-shirt, feeling more at home than he has since he arrived at the Capitol.

After breakfast, the preparation started, with Haymitch taking him to the area with the tv. Haymitch sat on one couch, and gestured for Harry to sit on the other. Haymitch stared at him, thoughtfully, until Harry had to look away.

“I wonder how we can sell you,” Haymitch muttered under his breath. “Because, I can’t sell ladies man, considering you aren’t one. You’re cute enough to sell as a hottie, but not bulky enough. I mean, I could sell you as very… hippie. Or maybe calm. Caring? Sweet? You don’t quite fit just one category.” Harry didn’t know what to say, so he just sat there, his hands resting on his knees and his heart beating like it wanted to escape his chest. “I think I’ll just ask some questions, and we can go from there,” Haymitch decided finally, pulling a stack of crisp cards out of his pocket. Harry noticed that for the first time since arriving in the Capitol, Haymitch was cleanshaven. He didn’t have his signature scruff that adorned his cheeks, but rather smooth cheeks with a scar running along the edge of his jawline, lying flat and pale against the rest of his skin.

After their question and answer session, Harry learned one thing: he talked too slow. Haymitch told him after every question, in between words, and when he paused. “Just talk faster!” Haymitch urged, moving his hand in circular motions to try and speed Harry up. After several attempts, Haymitch gave up with a loud huff, just continuing with the questions that he had already prepare.

At lunch, there wasn’t much talking. Harry wolfed down the food that was in front of him, not bothering to see what it was. He was starving, and nervous, and instead of his his stomach tossing and turning, it felt completely empty, like he hadn’t ate in years. Cantara didn’t look at him much, her shoulders slumped forward, her spine curving in on itself with exhaustion.

After lunch, Harry was with Effie for etiquette, with standing straight and holding his spine rigid. She helped him hold his hands still and speak without mumbling. It was, overall, a very effective learning experience. She had him running until the last moment, until Portia was practically pulling him away for prep before the interviews.

And the prep! Oh, the prep. Harry didn’t know how long it actually took for them to prep him, but apparently it took a while. He had to bathe in this weird pink, creamy liquid, then this light green clear liquid, then this dark brown sticky liquid, followed by plain water. Then, four different shampoos were applied to his hair, along with some form of shimmery oil for shine. Then, his hair was blow dried and curled perfectly on his head, while his nails were filed roundly. His suit was a sharp black, with a skinny black tie and a stark white button up. It was incredibly lame, except for his shoes, which were a bright orange, with black flame accents. They were cute, and amazing, and Harry felt amazing in them.

“Portia, I love the shoes!” Harry said, twirling in his suit, the pants falling just right on him. “This is just wonderful,” Harry said, only half meaning it. Instead of feeling like a prince, Harry felt more like a fool, with his shoulders too narrow in the suit. He wouldn’t admit that to Portia or to any of his stylist because, well, they would just try and reassure him. And while, in a normal situation, reassurance would be lovely, Harry didn’t feel like being reassured that his impending death was taking place in just less than two days. With tomorrow being the last day, and then shipping off the day after, Harry could feel the pressure constricting his chest. It was a do or die moment, and Harry didn’t even feel that spectacular.

“I almost forgot,” Portia added, grabbing gold things out of her pocket. “Rings. With your slender fingers, I figured rings would be a classy way to spice up your outfit.” Without a word, Portia stole Harry’s hand and slid two rings onto his left hand, and three onto his right, each ring commanding a finger, and each ring gold, with either a dark red or orange gem on it. Harry flexed his fingers, then curled them up, testing out the rings.

“I like the rings,” Harry said, smiling at Portia. Portia’s dark skin looked odd under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and Harry could almost see a twinge of sadness in her eyes. Harry looked away, almost too afraid to see what she was seeing. He didn’t want to be any more stressed than he was right then and there.

Soon, after waiting around and eating little crackers while trying not to spill crumbs on his suit, some Avoxes came to collect Harry, escorting him down a hallway and towards a dark room. Once he was inside, he was lined up behind Cartana, who was lined up behind all of the other Tributes. Cartana’s dress, though, was gorgeous. It was orange and fell just below her knees in pleats. The fabric shimmered in the light, with a slight blue undertone to it, with red highlights. The straps were the same material with intricate gold stitching, the bodice clinging tight to her body but fanning out to create a sense of youth. It fit Cartana perfectly, and when she moved, it changed color. Harry knew that she would look perfect.

Further up the line, Harry could see Louis, and could see Louis looking for him. Louis was wearing a navy blue suit, his hair slicked back. The suit practically matched his eyes. Harry knew this because he spent the last three days staring into those eyes. Louis looked nervous, more nervous than Harry had ever seen him. Eleanor looked almost calm, which was strange. Eleanor’s dress was lovely, with a sea green bodice and skirt that went down to just above her knee, with various blue and turquoise strips of fabric hanging off and dangling onto the floor. It looked like she was draped in seaweed, with her hair braided with bits of green fabric. Together, they looked stunningly like an elegant brother and sister, both around the same height with the same hair color and the same bone structure. Except El looked like a princess and Louis looked like he might hurl.

The cheers of the audience were deafening as they heard Caesar Flickerman’s entrance. But Harry almost expected it, because of his popularity. The crowd was cheering, hoots and hollers filling up the silence left by the tributes. Harry could practically feel Cartana trembling behind him, and could imagine the rainbow effect of colors her skirt was giving off. Harry tried to slow his breathing, tapping his hands against his thighs restlessly. His breathing was shaky, and his palms were sweaty, and it felt as if his heart could leap out of his chest.

Even as all of the other kids were called in front of him, his heart never slowed, it just skipped a beat every time an Avox came to collect another tribute. When they pulled Louis, he looked back at Harry with a nervous glint in his eye, before blowing him a kiss. It surprised Harry, and caused the rest of the tributes to look back at Harry with confusion, but all Harry could think about was the fact that Louis blew him a kiss. Cartana squealed behind him, poking his back, but Harry was almost numb. He could hear the banter between Caesar and Louis, their wild personalities bouncing off each other nicely to make Louis seem wonderful.

By the time they called Harry, almost everyone had their own version of a persona. Everyone except Harry. Harry had sweaty palms, the inside of his mouth was bitten raw, and he couldn’t breathe properly. He stepped forward warily, the Avoxes standing by his side. They guided him through a dark part of the backstage area, before he was deposited behind a wall. When they called his name, screams and shouts filling the area, Harry stepped out nervously, walking to the orange X on the stage he was told to stand on. Caesar, being his typical self, had a cheery smile on his face, his cheeks looking plastic and fake in real life, his teeth too white to be real.

“Harry Styles everyone!” Caesar said, clapping one hand roughly on Harry’s shoulder. “Now, Harry, were you born with that name, or did you get that name because of your hair?” Caesar asked, flashing another too white grin.

“Well, Caesar, I was born with my name, just like I was born with this perfect hair,” Harry answered, smiling into the audience lazily to disguise the fact that he was shaking inside.

“Cheeky! I like him,” Caesar said to the audience, clapping Harry roughly on the shoulder again. “Now, Harry, I know that you have sisters back home. Can you tell me something about them?” Caesar asked, looking Harry in the eyes.

“Well, I have one older sister named Gemma. She is the best. She is constantly cheering me up and making me look forward to every day. My younger sisters, triplets, are my reason for living. They wake me up in the morning, they help me strive to be better, and they just make me so happy. I don’t know what I’d do without them,” Harry responded, glancing between Caesar and the audience, trying not to let the bright lights hurt his eyes.

“How lovely. That is a lot of children. Now, Harry, if I must say, you are a looker,” Caesar said, clapping him again on the back, still rough. “Anyone special back home?”

“Not really, no,” Harry responded, shrugging slightly.

“C’mon now. With a face like that, there must be someone,” Caesar said, jostling Harry further. Harry just sucked in a breath, holding his hands together behind him.

“Well, there is someone here that I’m interested in,” Harry admitted, twitching his lips up into a slight smile. He glanced behind him, Louis’ eyes widening, his stare focused on Harry. Harry glanced back to Caesar, a wide grin on Caesar’s face.

“Spill the details, Styles,” Caesar bellowed, his mouth wide. He bobbed his head up and down in a ridiculously fake way that made Harry almost sick to his stomach, a sneer starting to make its way onto his face before he stopped it, wiping his face blank.

“You see, Caesar, I would like to keep this between me and him, if you don’t mind,” Harry said, but immediately cursed himself, seeing as he said ‘him’. He pinched his thigh hard, ignoring the gasps throughout the audience.

“So, one of these lucky boys has your eye,” Caesar repeated back, his face more serious.

 Harry shrugged. “You like what you like,” Harry said, biting his lip gently. Before Caesar could say anything else, the buzzer buzzed, allowing Harry to sit onstage. To get to his seat next to the District 11 girl, he had to walk along the tributes. As he started, he caught Louis’ eye, smiling at him. When he passed Louis, Louis’ held out his hand, slapping their palms together soundlessly before Harry continued towards his seat. Undoubtedly, Louis knew that he was talking about him. Which meant that Louis could possibly like him back. Harry felt nerves in his stomach, more nerves than when he was waiting to go on stage for his interview. And they weren’t because of the stage. They were because of Louis.

***

Then, it was time. Time to step up to the plate and put everything on the table. It was time for anyone who was anyone to prove their stuff, because now was the moment when fun and games turn to do or die. This was where beauty and pageantry fell away to reveal the anger and hostility built up over the  past few days, where strategy and planning was so important in these final moments. It was time for Harry to forget any thoughts he had about having a normal life. It was time for Cartana to let go of every hope that she could be a child and grow up to be an adult. It was time for Louis to suit up and show up, and bring everything he had. Because if anyone forgot that this was a death game, even for a moment, it might mean their end.

It was time for the Hunger Games.

Harry had one last final piece of advice from Haymitch before he was pulled away to the Prep Room, with Haymitch hastily whispering in his ear, his scruffy chin scratching against him. “Don’t run for the Cornucopia. It is a death brawl in there. Grab the things closest to you, and run. As fast as you can. distance yourself from the Cornucopia and find water, because distance and water are the only things you’ll need for the next two weeks,” Haymitch whispered, his palm heavy on Harry’s shoulder. “Now, I’m going to tell Cartana the same thing. You two are better off together, you hear? Stick together,” Haymitch added, almost as an afterthought.

Harry could only nod, being whisked away by Peacekeepers with their hard, white exoskeletons and their big, meaty hands grabbing at Harry’s shoulder. Harry was shoved down the dark hallway to the Prep Rooms, his crew standing behind the door with their hands clasped firmly in front of them.

“We were given specific instructions to leave your hair alone,” Vesper said, biting her lip. “But, besides that, the general wash down and meal.” And with that, Harry went through yet another day of prep, with his nails painted with a thick, clear tar, his face slathered in another weird tar-like substance. He bathed in oil, then soap, then another oily water. It was bath after bath, with hair treatments and wax on his chest and some weird scrub that scraped away some of his dead skin.

Finally, Harry was shoved onto a hovercraft, wearing just a pair of plain cotton bottoms, a cotton t-shirt, and a pair of flimsy slide on shoes. The hovercraft ride was silent and long, with the windows blacking out a while after leaving the Capitol. Harry fiddled with the straps on his chest, his heart beating harder with every minute that passed.

By the time the hovercraft landed, Harry’s stomach churned uncomfortably. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, and when he stepped off of the hovercraft and into the bright sun, Portia was there to greet him, urging him down a stairwell. Once they went down a flight of stairs, they were put into a small car-like cart and drove for at least twenty minutes. All Harry could remember from his short time outside was how bright it was. It was practically blinding. Or maybe that was a white wall put in place between him and the real arena. He couldn’t tell the difference at this point.

Portia dressed him in simple black pants, tapered at the ankle. Thick wool socks and rubber soled canvas shoes were on his feet. For a shirt, he had a simple, skin tight undershirt along with a black longsleeve over it. He also had a black jacket, cotton lined inside and a thick plastic outside with a black plastic hood, lined with thicker wool. It was flexible but thick, crinkling when Harry moved. He also had a headband, which Portia explained she had to ask for specially, claiming that he couldn’t do any physical harm with it. She also said that it took quite a deal of convincing. Harry thanked her with a hug.

It was soon, too soon, before Harry was being ushered off into a clear tube, his breathing heavy and loud. “Don’t worry, Harry. I know you can do it,” Portia said, clasping his rough hand in her soft hands, smiling at him. The buzzer sounded, forcing Portia to snatch her hands back before the tube closed all the way. Harry smiled at her just as the platform rose, sweat forming under his many layers. When he started rising above ground, the sun forced itself into his eyes, illuminating the world around him. Icy air bit his skin, and in that moment Harry was glad for the headband wrapped tightly around his forehead.

After Harry’s eyes adjusted, he realized that he was surrounded by snow, the golden Cornucopia shining bright in the sunlight. It was a high altitude, because Harry found it harder to breathe. He could see the supplies scattered through the snowy field, but beyond the circle of Tributes surrounding the Cornucopia, the land turned rocky and thick with foliage. To his left, it sloped up sharply, but looked as if it flattened out further up. To his right, it went downwards at a slight angle before it stopped at a river. Beyond the Cornucopia, it was barren, with trees turning to rocks with little foliage. With a quick glance behind him, Harry saw it was flat with trees, at least as far as Harry could see.

Supplies wise, Harry couldn’t see too far in front of him because of the snow. Close to him, maybe five feet away, was a small lump of wool. About twenty feet away was a small plastic box. About thirty feet away was a backpack, sitting directly in front of Harry. It was green and looked kind of small, but who knew what was in store. Harry didn’t know if he could run to the pile of weapons about 60 or 70 feet in front of him, but he knew he could sprint those thirty feet, grab the backpack, maybe the plastic box, and possibly the lump of wool near him. That would be enough, Harry decided. Enough for him.

When the 60 seconds was up, a large gong sound ringing out, Harry sprinted forward, grabbing the backpack and doubling back for the box and wool lump. He didn’t bother looking for Louis or Cartana, knowing that if they were looking for him, they would’ve found him. He dashed away, heading for the flat strip of land, knowing that his legs would betray him. In his mind he was formulating a plan. He considered running downwards, but it was a large slope, and would be killer to have to climb up again. If he went upwards, the only place he could go was down, which was probably the better option. For now, he was running for his life, trying not to trip and fall.

After what seemed like forever, Harry slowed to a walk, angling himself uphill slightly, weaving through the trees. The backpack was heavy on his shoulder, and the plastic box and wet wool was heavy in his hands. He didn’t want to stop, though. Didn’t want to take the risk of anyone coming up behind him and killing him. He kept walking, even though his legs burned and his throat was on fire with thirst. It was drive that pushed him along, and fear that anyone at any moment could come up behind him and kill him.

***

After what seemed like forever, with Harry’s feet aching from walking on the rocky terrain, he sat on a log. In reality, it had only been a few hours, maybe two or three at most, but to Harry it seemed like forever. He was most of the way up the mountainous hill, but he couldn’t quite see the flat section as clear as he could before. It was worrying, how unclear his path ahead of him was when he was in the thick of the forrest.

After taking a few breaths, Harry decided to unpack his backpack, seeing what was inside the bag, the plastic box, and what the semi dry lump of wool was. He started with the backpack, sliding the zipper open to reveal the contents inside. The first thing he pulled out was a thin sheet of plastic that looked like a plastic bag, but under further inspection, was a sleeping bag. Then, there was a coiled up rope, a pair of knives, a thick sheet of loud plastic, a small sack of dried fruit, a larger pouch of unsalted nuts, and a pair of sunglasses. The last thing he pulled out was a water bottle, which under further inspection, had a filter in the center of it. Harry could scoop up some of the snow around him and put it in the water bottle to melt, and it would melt down and then the filter would make it clean.

As for the box, when Harry opened it, he was surprised to see that it was a simple first aid kit. Band-aids, a small bottle of pain relieving pills, a roll of sticky cotton tape, a stack of sterile cotton pads, and a small package of tissues. He tucked the plastic box into his backpack, zipping it back up. The cotton clump turned out to be a beanie, which harry shoved onto his head on top of his headband, enjoying the warmth that it was already giving him.

The thing was, there was no food. I mean, Harry had the fruit and nuts, and he had a purifying water bottle, but no food. No real food, anyhow. The fruit and nuts would have to be backup in case he couldn’t find anything. He couldn’t risk eating his existing food now. He had to take a few deep breaths, slowing his heart rate. He decided he would go upwards, where there was more snow. Hopefully he would find something to eat, or remember one of the foods he was taught that he could eat.

***

Just as night was starting to fall, the twinges of dusk playing with the edges of the sky, Harry made it to the plateau on the mountain, the area blanketed in snow. Harry immediately started packing snow into his water bottle, tucking it underneath his long sleeve shirt, holding it close to his body on top of his undershirt. He hoped that his body heat would melt it fast enough to drink. His body ached of thirst and hunger, but this was more important. He could survive without food for weeks, but he couldn’t survive without water.

After scouring out an area of the small clearing that was dry, he came across a tree with low branches just a few feet from the main clearing area. He tested the branches, determining that it was strong enough to hold him, and he could sit about ten feet in the air casually. It was probably the only dry space near the clearing, and he wanted to stay somewhere semi-familiar. Harry didn’t even care that he was probably the clumsiest person ever. He was determined to get into the tree.

After two poor attempts, Harry managed to get halfway into the tree, sitting back uncomfortably in a dry crook between branches. From this spot, he could see the sky clearly, and he waited for the familiar Capitol music to ring out along with all of the dead tribute pictures. His butt was already going numb from the cold branch, and his legs were cramping up, but that is what he got for sleeping in comfortable Capitol beds for the past few nights. Harry just hoped that Louis or Eleanor or Cartana would find him soon, because he didn’t want to be without them.

As soon as the Capitol music started, Harry perked up, his eyes glued to the sky above him. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to stay as still as possible to watch. The first dead tribute they showed was the girl from District 5, meaning that everyone from 1 to 4 were alive, including Louis and El. Then the boy from five, the girl from six, both from seven, both from eight, the boy from nine, both from ten, and the girl from 11. That was a total of eleven dead, with thirteen still alive in the arena. And three of those people Harry knew he could trust.

***

Louis walked all night. He made sure of it. After joining up with the Career pack and enduring stupid insults based on his sexuality, he made it his mission to find Harry, even if it meant that he left the Careers. Louis had life skills, ones that could be of use in the arena. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t. During the group training sessions, Harry couldn’t attack the practice trainers because he didn’t want to hurt them. He didn’t pass the edible plants test, and couldn’t even make a fire without Louis’ help. He was helpless in the wild, and he needed Louis’ help.

Plus, Louis had a crush on him.

But all of that didn’t matter, as long as Louis got to Harry before Harry did something stupid. Knowing Harry, he would go upwards, knowing that he wasn’t coordinated enough to run uphill away from, well, anything. At least downhill, gravity could take care of him if he needed it. “Guys, I think we should go uphill. Flush everyone out,” Louis suggested, holding his spear firmly in on hand, a torch with fire on the end in the other.

“Why don’t you just go up there, Louis?” Goldie said, flicking her orange hair behind her. “We all know you just have a crush on that stupid coal miner,” she added, glancing back and forth between the rest of the Careers.

“Hey, Goldie, shut your mouth. We all know you had sex with Shine back in the Capitol. No one is going to excuse you for giving it away to Shine when you already had Maximus wrapped around your pinky,” Eleanor argued, smirking. “I mean, you cheated on Max with Shine, and that isn’t excusable,” Eleanor added, glancing between Goldie, Max, and Shine. Louis let out a low whistle, seeing things heating up between the two District 1 tributes and the male from District 2. The girl from district two already sighed and stomped away, saying something about finding somewhere dry to sit, whereas Louis and Eleanor remained where they were, standing huddled together and watching the drama unfold as Goldie attempted to explain to both Shine and Max that she liked them equally, and couldn’t give the other up.

“You want to find Harry,” Eleanor whispered to Louis while the bunch of them was distracted. “You think he went uphill. I would willingly break from these four to go with you,” Eleanor added, her shoulder pressing against Louis’.

“Fuck, El. I’m just worried about him. You don’t need to danger yourself,” Louis replied, his hand snaking out to wrap around her waist. Her plastic jacket was cool to the touch, and Louis snatched his hand back after touching her jacket.

“I care about Harry. If I don’t win, and you don’t win, Harry deserves to. He is someone I’d like to align myself with. Him and Cartana. She can throw a knife better than any of these shits, and I’d rather be with people I like than with people who will kill me,” Eleanor explained, bumping her hip into Louis.

“We leave tonight? And if we’re leaving, we should probably take some precautions,” Louis reasoned, thinking out loud. “Kill off Goldie just for the sake of it? Or maybe someone else,” Louis added, trying to keep his voice low.

“Are you suggesting we kill someone?” Eleanor asked, turning to face Louis.

Louis shrugged, frowning a bit. “It’s gonna happen eventually. Might as well make a huge first move and take out Max or Goldie,” Louis said, his eyes sad and his voice sorrow sounding.

“If you make a plan, I’ll go along with it. For the sake of protecting ourselves and making a move to assert our dominance,” Eleanor said finally, moving away from Louis to help someone with a fire. Wheels were already turning in Louis’ head, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

***

At daybreak, when everyone was finally starting to fall asleep, Louis and Eleanor volunteered themselves for first watch shift, just an hour or two. It was the perfect set up, because then they could make their move and escape before anyone was awake enough to follow them. Louis had it all planned out, from what they were doing to who they were targeting.

“Do I have to do anything?” Eleanor whispered, sticking close to Louis.

“If you stay on the tree line, I’ll do it all, okay? And when I say run, sprint up the hill as fast as you can. I’ll be right behind you,” Louis said, pushing El to the correct spot on the treeline. “If you want a head start, then go now, alright?”

Eleanor shook her head. “I’ll stay here. Just hurry up, will ya?”

Nodding, Louis walked slowly towards the sleeping bodies, pulling a knife out of Goldie’s backpack, moving to hover over Max. Taking deep breaths, trying to convince himself this was the right thing, Louis stood there, his heart hammering in his chest. He crouched down, close to Max, thinking of all of the homophobic, asshole things he had said to Louis. Wordlessly, Louis lifted the knife and plunged it into Max’s heart, standing and running away from him as soon as possible, his choked cries filling the air for a moment before dying off, not disturbing anyone. Then, where the campfire was still smoldering, Louis kicked the ashes and coals, spraying them all over the sleeping bodies. His shoe half started to melt, but Louis started running, motioning for El to run, bile rising up in his throat at the thought of what he had just done.

***

“Louis, _you just killed him_ ,” Eleanor snapped, her breathing hard and her eyes narrowed.

“That was our plan, wasn’t it? Ruin their little pack now before they got too powerful? Well, I just took out Max, the powerhouse, and tossed most of them with hot coals. They probably have burns, and are weakened. And don’t act like you didn’t know the plan, because I told you exactly what was going down,” Louis said, raking his fingers through his hair, tussling it. Louis looked at her, his eyes hard, but he could see the tears brimming in her eyes. “Fuck, El. This is the games. Kill or be killed,” Louis added, crossing to El, his hands reaching towards her.

“Don’t touch me. Your hands are stained red,” she hissed, backing away. “The only reason why I’m staying with you is to protect myself, because I know that I can be protected with you. Otherwise, I would’ve left already,” Eleanor added.

“Don’t act like a spoiled princess, Eleanor. You knew what was going to happen. If you didn’t like my plan, you could’ve said no. Now, lets stop arguing and find Harry. Now that we are up this hill, its only time before we find him,” Louis said, huffing loudly.

By now, the sun was far in the sky, and Louis was starting to worry whether or not Harry had the smarts to move during the day. He started off in one direction, scanning for any sign of Harry. By now, the snow had started to melt on this portion of the mountain, but if the pale white clouds in the sky indicated anything, it indicated snow. Louis was used to seeing the dark black storm clouds boiling up over the ocean, with the wind picking up and throwing the fishing boat around.  

“El, I’m sorry. Okay? Now, I say we walk this way, towards the big empty space over there. There seems to be a lot of snow still left, and maybe some indents where footprints are,” Louis suggested, biting his lip as he looked at Eleanor, her eyes downcast.

“Fine, Louis. Just, next time, tell me to look away? It was more disturbing than I thought, you killing someone,” El responded, shaking her head, her long wavy hair looking damp. From the Cornucopia, they managed to score a large amount of items, both of their backpacks bulging with gear. Louis had a thin sleeping bag, three knives, rope, a purifying water bottle, packs of dried nuts and fruit, a small plastic container in which Louis promptly filled with edible berries, a pair of gloves, two wool hats, an extra pair of socks and a scarf. El had almost the same, except she had a bow and arrow slung across her back whereas Louis had a spear. She had only one hat tucked on her head, as it was still quite cold. Louis didn’t have any protective gear on, his body warm and sweaty from running.

“I’ll lead the way, alright? Then you can blame everything on me,” Louis said, smiling at her. She smiled back, but Louis could see that it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and the smile faded much faster than usual. Louis’ heart almost hurt at the sight of her, but it was kill and be killed. The sad thing was, it was only the second day of the games.

After some short walking, they reached a clearing, shoe prints embedded into the snow. “Harry?” Louis called out cautiously, holding his spear in front of him protectively. El slung an arrow onto her bow, holding the string tight as she pointed it outward, scanning the line of trees surrounding the clearing.

“Louis?” Harry responded, jumping down from a tree just a bit away from the treeline, where the snow started to disappear. His curls looked flattened, and his nose was a bit red with the cold. Unable to control himself, Louis threw his arms around Harry, hugging him tight to his chest. Their breaths came fast, shallow, Harry’s heart hammering and Louis holding him as tight as he could, his spear dropped and forgotten in the snow. He noticed that Harry had a scarf wrapped into his hair, tied together tightly to hold his curls.

“Have I told you that you look adorable with the scarf?” Louis said, pulling away to tug at the ends of the knot, grinning up at Harry. Harry’s hands relaxed on Louis’ waist, biting his lip gently.

“Okay. Haha. Great reunion or whatever. Kiss, tell him that you killed someone, and lets get to dry ground,” El snapped. “I think there is someone else around here, and I don’t feel safe.”

Before Harry could say anything, Louis pulled away, his body slipping away from Harry’s. “I killed Max. It was part of my plan, my diversion plan, you see. I wanted to find you, to make sure you were safe. If I was going to leave the Careers, I knew I had to take out the strongest one while I was there,” Louis explained, keeping his head ducked down. He didn’t dare look at Harry, but he could see Eleanor with a grimace plastered on her face out of the corner of his eye.

“Whatever you had to do,” Harry said after a long moment, reaching out to touch Louis’ shoulder gently. “I mean, it wouldn’t be the Hunger Games without someone dying, right?” Harry added, trying to smile to cover up the frown on his face. “I just want to forget, alright? We can just forget about it and leave that past where it is, because I really don’t feel like hashing out stuff that might not even matter in twelve hours.”

“Good. Then it is settled. Lets find some dry area, alright? And maybe some water. I’m starting to get thirsty, and I’m almost out of water,” Louis said, glancing over at Eleanor, her innocence falling away from her in sheets, each layer exposing her to the harshness of the outside world. She looked at him helplessly, hunching over on herself as flakes of herself floated away with the wind, stripping her down to the innocent child that was hidden under a thick shell.

“C’mon, El,” Louis said, reaching out a hand to her, pulling her closer to him. He almost felt bad about killing Max in front of her, but if he didn’t, they probably wouldn’t have been standing there, so Louis didn’t ponder it any further.

***

Louis found out that Harry was almost incapable of doing any form of outdoor activity on his own. While Eleanor managed to shoot down a rabbit and some weird bird, Harry only managed to trip over his feet every few seconds. Louis got a fire started, a small one that could be covered up by the medium gray clouds above. He also cleaned up the rabbit and bird, skinning them and such. It was dirty work, but when Harry blanched at the sight of blood and El ended up throwing up in the bushes anyways, Louis knew he was the one who had to do it.

Harry ended up cooking it after Louis almost burned the rabbit. He took over the rotation of the bird on the stick, his long fingers spinning the rabbit the right way, cooking it evenly on all sides. It made Louis wish that he brought the pan that was back with the Careers. It would have been nice to have a pan for cooking food.

They shared the rabbit as a meal, tucking the cooked bird into the plastic sheet Harry had. They showed each other their supplies, agreeing that everyone had about the same. Harry showed them the snow trick, about how to melt it quickly against their body heat. While they compared, Louis turned around every few moments, checking the area again and again, as if he was waiting for someone to attack. When Harry reached out and placed a warm palm on Louis’ knee, Louis calmed down instantly, his thoughts on Harry instead of on the impending danger that would surround them for the rest of the games.

Harry showed them the tree he slept in the night before, but Eleanor discovered a small cave embedded into the mountain just thirty yards away where the mountain curved swiftly upward. Eleanor made it her home inside after squeezing through the gap in rocks to the small space inside. The cave entrance extended up the hill quite a ways, making the cave tall, but the lower portion was blocked by a big rock, making it so that the cave was half illuminated by the moonlight, but hard to squeeze into.

There were two tributes in the sky that night. Max and the girl from nine. El cried silent tears. Louis pressed his shoulder into Harry’s. They sat in silence, not saying anything.

***

They found Cartana the next day while hiking. They decided to go back to the cave, considering it stayed pretty warm with the three of them cuddling, but Louis wanted to hunt a bit more, and Harry wanted to find Cartana, and El just wanted to sleep. They decided to leave El at the cave, with Harry and Louis out to do the dirty work. Harry scoured high and low and Louis speared two more rabbits when they found Cartana, her body shaking with the cold.

They found her at the base of a tree, a small backpack at her feet and her jacket missing from her shoulders. She was huddled into herself as close as possible, tucking the backpack onto her feet to keep them warm. When she saw Harry and Louis, she started crying, her hands a shade of red that couldn’t possibly be natural.

“Oh, love,” Harry crooned, crouching down next to her. He pulled the beanie off of his head and shoved it onto hers, trying to conserve her body heat. Without thinking, Harry pulled them both into a standing position, unzipping his jacket and enveloping her, zipping it up around the two of them, her frozen hands trapped against his body. Her thinner body, obviously dehydrated and lacking food, was pressed so tight to Harry that Louis couldn’t quite tell where one ended and the other began. He could see the care that Harry took, the car that could only develop if Harry had sisters himself.

“Look, Harry, I’m just going to get a few more things for food. Then I’m going to come back and collect you so we can head back to the cave, alright? We got about a half day of hiking back, so it would be nice to wrap this up soon,” Louis said, starting to walk away when a parachute floated down from the sky and hit his face, the metal container bashing him properly in the forehead.  

“Ah, fuck, Louis,” Harry said, running over to where Louis was knocked on the ground. He held a warm hand to Louis’ forehead where it was hit, with Louis gasping for air slightly.

“Just got the wind knocked out of me. I’ll be okay,” Louis said, sitting up and grabbing the parachute tightly in his arms. “Let’s just get back to El and open this with her,” Louis added, looking at Cartana. “And, girlie, what ever happened to your jacket?”

***

They made it back to the cave just as the sun was starting to sink into the horizon, casting long shadows on everyone. Louis squeezed in first, the sun bright as it illuminated the entire cave. Eleanor was sitting inside, the cooked bird at her feet. “Couldn’t help but eat it,” she said, chewing through the last bite. Cartana followed after Louis, then Harry following up. El looked at the three of them, Louis’ forehead slick with sweat, Cantara and her lack of jacket, and Harry with his hand on Louis’ ankle to steady himself.

“We need to get Cartana with proper gear. Lost her jacket when fighting Goldie late yesterday,” Harry explained, quickly relaying the story Cartana had provided them. She had told Louis and Harry about her scuffle with the Career pack. Apparently, Goldie had a large burn on her face and they had acquired the boy from six to hang with them. Other than that, Cartana hadn’t seen any of the other tributes, but then again, the only other tribute was the boy from 11. All other tributes were dead, or aligned with a group. Louis knew that they couldn’t just sit around and wait, but after three days of solid packed action, Louis knew that they could chill at the cave for another day or two until the Capitol and Gamemakers flushed them either downhill or further uphill.

Eleanor made sure that Cartana had a pair of gloves, a hat, and both of the scarves that Eleanor and Louis had gotten, one wrapped around her neck and the other draped across her shoulders. Unfortunately, Cartana didn’t have much in her pack except a sleeping bag, a plastic sheet, and a pair of sunglasses. Cartana did wrap herself in her sleeping bag, falling asleep as soon as she was given some of the berries Louis had collected. He and Harry shared the rest of the berries before falling asleep, too, their bodies wrapped around each other with only the thin sleeping bag between them. “To conserve warmth,” Louis lied. In reality, he just wanted to be closer to Harry, because he knew that there was only so many days for them to be together. He wanted to make a tiny heaven in the pile of shit that was the games. He just wanted to be loved by someone who wanted to love him. Harry was that person. They even forgot about the parachute.  

There were no faces in the sky that night.

***  

They opened the parachute early the next morning, a small pot of cold soup inside. Louis volunteered himself to leave the cave to warm it up, making a small fire on a dry area of land, the white and gray clouds hiding the rising smoke. He stamped out most of the flames before putting the small pot on it, waiting as he watched it start to bubble. When he was satisfied with the heat, he hauled the heavy pan back into the cave, each taking turns to scoop the liquid with the singular spoon that came attached to the pot. The soup was a creamy base with potatoes and clams in it, something that was very similar to El and Louis, but brand new to Harry and Cartana.

“Clam chowder,” El said, taking a large spoonful. “It’s the best to have on a cold day,” she added, handing the spoon over to Cartana, who shivered slightly with a gust of wind blowing through the cave. She still had mildly cold skin to the touch, but there was color in her cheeks and the extra clothing was proving to help her out. Louis couldn’t help but hear her clearing her throat or see her wiping her slightly runny nose on the corner of her shirt. He knew she was sick, but he doubted anyone else had any idea. He hoped she could live long enough to, well, live.  

“It’s quite good. If only we could eat something this elegant back home. We just get plain potatoes and grains, with maybe some chicken and spices depending on how good my dad gets paid,” Cartana said, taking a big scoop of the stew, closing her eyes as it passed over her tongue. After she swallowed, she sniffled a bit, trying to inhale air.  

“It was all about how good of a trade I could get. I mean, supporting my triplet siblings was a nightmare for me. It meant harder deals and harder bargains. You make a lot of enemies when you drive a hard bargain and don’t follow through on all of your promises,” Harry said before taking a bite, passing the spoon to Louis, knocking his knee against Louis’. Louis smiled instinctively, warmth passing through his belly.

“Long days on the fishing boat and the possibility of storms was what I had in store. At least, for the few months before the reaping. Long days on the boat were terrible, especially when surrounded by an everlasting fish smell.” Louis said, taking his spoonful of soup. “Cartana deserves the rest, considering she almost froze to death,” Louis said, holding out the small pot and spoon with the last two bites in it. It was his excuse to give her a better time, since she was obviously a bit sniffly.

“Thanks, Lou,” Cartana said, smiling widely at him. She greedily sucked down the rest of the chowder, slurping slightly. Harry knocked his knee into Louis’ again, resulting in Louis reaching out to still Harry’s knee with his hand. Harry’s insides melted, despite the fact that he was worrying about the games and other tributes.

***

The next day, after no one in the sky, Louis could feel the tension in the air. Not between the four of them, but between their group and the Capitol. Currently, the Careers and they were rivaling, but no one was going to break off on their own yet. No one dare. There was still someone hanging in the balance, but without action, Louis knew that they would be forced to action. He couldn’t stand to stay in the cave again, especially if they were just going to be flushed out again. Louis was thinking ahead, and trying to keep himself alive. That was why he brought the subject to the other three in the morning.

“I think we should leave,” Louis said, sitting with the others in a circle, berries spread out on the tarp in front of them, along with the bird they cooked yesterday. He held his hands still on his lap, but he couldn’t help but bounce a little with nervousness.

“Leave? Like leave each other? Or the cave?” Harry asked, his brow furrowing. Harry pressed his knee into Louis’ as he searched Louis’ face, trying to find something more than his facial expression.  

“The cave,” Louis clarified, giggling his leg. “I know something is brewing, and I’d rather be far away from here before the Capitol or the Careers flush us out. Thought we could be proactive,” Louis added, looking down at his hands instead of at the rest of them.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Eleanor said, speaking up. She shrugged when Harry and Cartana looked at her. “We all knew we couldn’t stay here forever. Let’s move now before anything happens.” El could see the uneasiness in Louis’ posture, and could tell that Cartana was sick. She was coughing nearly all night, and her pallor was still a bit gray when it should have returned to it’s normal pinkness.

“But, I don’t want to go,” Cartana whispered. Before a tear could slip from her eye, Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder, rubbing it gently. With silent eye contact, Louis moved to roll up the sleeping bags and gear and stuffing it into backpacks, putting the small pot and spoon into his backpack. He made sure everyone’s gear was in their backpacks, slinging his on his back.

“Let’s just leave now then, alright? Its morning, and probably not as hard to leave now as it would be,” Louis suggested, standing in the cave, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. El could only think of the terrible things waiting outside of the cave for them. The Mutts, and the Careers, and that lone tribute, the boy from 11. He was a shifty guy, his eyes never staying in one spot. During the training sessions, he managed to make it through every single station, whereas El could barely make it through half. He wasn’t trustworthy, not for a long shot.

El grabbed her backpack off of the ground, slinging it over her shoulder. She realized that Cartana lost her backpack, and had almost nothing besides her body and the clothing on her. Before El could offer her jacket up, even for just a little bit, Louis was already shedding his jacket, handing it to her.

“This will keep you warm,” Louis said, making sure she got her limbs tucked into the right places. “I figured you could wear it until we stop walking, and hopefully by then you will be sufficiently toasty, alright?” Louis said, running his hands over her shaking shoulders, her body crumpling in on itself.

“Let’s leave now,” El suggested, trying to get them out of the cave, their body stench making it smell a bit. “I seriously need a bath. And we need to leave early so then we have time to scour out a better place to rest,” El added, trying to hurry the group up.

“Alright,” Harry said, dropping to the ground. He crawled through first, his backpack dragging on his ankle as he squeezed through the hole, his stomach sliding against the ground uncomfortably. When he disappeared on the other side, Louis dropped down, shoving his backpack through first and then following it, Harry helping him up on the other side. Most of the snow had melted around the cave, but there was still some on the rocks, resilient in the air that had started to warm.

Before Louis could react, Harry pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight against his body, Harry’s hammering heart pressed to Louis’ chest. Harry let go, handing Louis’ backpack back to him. Harry blushed a deep red, aided by the chilly air.

“What was that for?” Louis asked, grinning at him. Louis ran his hand along Harry’s side, his fingers stroking inside the jacket.

“To make sure you were warm. And because I wanted to,” Harry said, smiling back. Suddenly, Cartana was shoved through the hole sliding right into the bit of dirt. Harry hauled her up like she was a feather, propping her on her feet with Louis’ jacket hanging large on her.

“Thanks, Harry,” she said, sniffling a bit. She adjusted the scarf tighter around her neck, despite the mild temperature outside.

“No problem, Cartana,” Harry said, stepping closer to Louis, the cold exterior of his rubber jacket rubbing against Louis’ body.

“Love, your jacket is absolutely freezing,” Louis said, shivering slightly. He wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to conserve his body heat a little better.

“I’m sorry, Lou. Here,” Harry said, zipping open his jacket and folding Louis inside, holding him tight to his body. The jacket couldn’t quite reach around Louis’ body, but Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s torso, pressing his cold fingers to Harry’s back.

“Thanks, babe,” Louis mumbled into Harry’s chest.

Eleanor came sliding out of the cave, looking up at the two of them. “Is anyone going to help me up?” she asked, frowning.

***

They came to a rest about an hour later, when Cartana protested that her lungs hurt, and promptly collapsed on a dry log. “I just can’t walk any farther without breathing funny,” she said, pressing one hand to her chest. and trying to take deep breaths. While they were stopped, Louis walked over to Harry, sliding his jacket open for him. Louis tucked himself inside Harry’s arms, not because he was cold, but because he wanted a hug. Because he knew that without rest, Cartana wouldn’t get better. And with the cold air and lack of medicine, Louis was just plain worried about how much farther she could make it without weighing them down. They needed to move much further than they had, but with Cartana walking half the speed of the rest of them, they couldn’t move anywhere quickly enough.

“It’s fine,” Harry assured her, his hands rubbing slow circles into Louis’ back. “We can stop as often as you need to. We are just moving to move, you know? It sucks to stay holed up,” Harry added, glancing over at Eleanor with worry in his eyes.

“I can tell I’m slowing you down,” Cartana whispered, her voice raspy. She took an extra deep breath, trying to get air into her lungs. “And I’m obviously no help. Just leave me. I’m not going to make it anyways,” Cartana added, sighing deeply before coughing.

“You’re the best of us,” Eleanor said, swooping over to sit next to her. “You’re going to outlive all of us, I just know it.” El wrapped an arm around her shoulders, looking helplessly at Louis and Harry, their limbs tangled with each other.

“Can we get moving? I don’t want to sit around here and feel sorry for myself,” Cartana said, standing and shrugging off Eleanor’s arm. “Just let me walk at my own pace, and you can walk at yours, alright?”

“We walk together,” Eleanor insisted firmly, locking eyes with Cartana. She started off walking downhill at a slight slope. Louis pulled away from Harry and back into the cooler air, glancing up at the sky. Based on the clouds that had accumulated, it was going to snow or rain, Louis couldn’t be sure. But, it didn’t look good for the group of them if they didn’t move quicker. Louis knew they didn’t have to find a good, dry area for a while, but he couldn’t help but look at each tree as a possible shelter.

As the day passed, and they made their way downhill, they barely got to the Cornucopia by the time the sun had started to set. They figured that once at the Cornucopia, they could scour the left over supplies that people had left, or even use it as shelter if they needed to. Since it was starting to rain, and Louis didn’t have a jacket, they figured that staying inside the Cornucopia for a while was a good idea. There wasn’t much inside, with just some scattered supplies that had been knocked over or spilled on the ground. Once they gathered all of the supplies, they decided to sit in a circle to dish them out.

“Backpack, water bottle, and jacket goes to Cartana,” Louis said, handing over the three items and receiving his jacket back. “Lets get everyone some of these dried fruit and nut mixes, and then dish out the knives to everyone, and give Cartana the big knife since she doesn’t have any weapon,” Louis added, glancing at everyones faces.

“Sounds good to me,” El assured, smiling at Louis briefly before counting out the knives. She handed Cartana the knife with the serrated edge on one side and a smooth edge on the other. Then, handed everyone one small, pokey looking knife and one knife that had a small serrated section near the handle. Louis fiddled with them before putting them in his backpack, Harry just placed them in there gently, and Cartana laid them out on the floor, running her fingertips over the smooth, cool blades.

“It’s fucking cold,” Harry said, shivering slightly. Eleanor then noticed the cold creeping up on them, with her but being nearly numb and her face starting to hurt with the frost.

“Just when I thought it might be getting warmer,” Louis said sarcastically, but still sidled up to Harry, Harry’s arm coming around to drape across Louis’ shoulders.

“Well, I’m hungry,” El whispered, tapping her new knives gently on the ground. “How about I go and fetch us something to eat? We can cook it in that pot of yours, Louis,” El added, standing up. She picked up her bow, sliding out a single arrow and sliding it into the bow, pulling back slightly. She walked out of the Cornucopia before anyone could say anything, disappearing around the side of it. Louis glanced at Harry nervously, but still stayed close to him, his body pressed against his side. They all stayed quiet, trying to listen for El’s footsteps, or even just the whistle of an arrow finding the body of an animal. But it was near silence.

They waited a long time. Once the sun had fully set, the Capitol music started up, and El wasn’t back yet. The sky revealed no new deaths, but El still wasn’t back yet. Louis couldn’t be worried though, instead pressing himself closer to Harry. In his gut, Louis knew that the cameras were all trained on Eleanor, tracking her every move. Louis knew that either she left to go get food, and encountered something startling that she couldn’t get away from, or is being attacked right now. Louis couldn’t risk himself, though, not wanting to reveal their position.

An hour after sundown, and El still wasn’t back. By now, if she didn’t have food, it was pointless. Maybe Louis could do something exciting and earn them some food from Sponsors. “I’m going to check outside, alright? I’ll be right back, Harry,” Louis said decisively, standing up. Harry’s hands slid down Louis’ legs limply, nodding. Louis pulled out his spear and started to walk out of the Cornucopia, surprised to see it lightly snowing. He looked for tracks in the snow, but anything was already being covered up by the falling snow. “El?” he called out softly, walking with his back pressed to the cold surface of the exterior portion of the Cornucopia. After nearing the tail of the Cornucopia, he saw something. Something that looked like a knife on the ground, half buried in snow. He walked forward quickly, picking up the knife. There was blood on the blade, and under further inspection, blood on the ground leading away from the cornucopia and into the woods. Louis wiped the bloody blade on the ground, trying to wipe some blood off of it, but wielded it just the same, holding it in his left hand, the spear in his right.

He pressed into the dark woods, making sure to scrape a bit of bark away from each tree every ten or so feet. He made small, scraped X’s on the trees, which he hoped he would see in the dark later. After about thirty yards, when Louis was about to give up, he found it.

The body of Goldie, her guts spilled onto the ground, blood pooling around her. He gasped, his hand flying to his mouth to cover his sound, walking backwards to press his back into a tree. His stomach bubbled with disgust, and his heart was hammering in his ears, and Louis couldn’t help but shake. He couldn’t believe the sight before him, and almost puked in the bushes beside him. Without any further thought, Louis turned and started back the way he came, moving slowly, trying not to hurl his guts up. He followed the X’s on the trees, back to the clearing where the Cornucopia was. Walking back to the entrance, he saw Harry standing up, waiting for Louis, with Cartana asleep behind him.

“Where is El? What happened? Louis?” Harry asked, reaching out to touch Louis’ shoulders.

“Couldn’t find El. Goldie is dead. Guts everywhere. Lots of blood. I might be sick,” Louis said, speaking in simple sentences in order to stay mildly sane. Before Louis could say anything, Harry pulled his shaking body forwards so that Louis fell into Harry’s arms. Louis choked out sobs, his breath coming quickly as he dropped his weapons and hugged Harry tightly. Harry could feel every tremble of Louis’ body, from the sobs coming from his mouth to the shakiness in his knees as he remained standing. “It was horrible, Harry,” Louis mumbled into Harry’s shirt, clinging to him tightly. Harry rubbed small circles into his back, trying to calm Louis down.

“It’s alright, Louis. She is probably gone now. Picked up by one of the hovercrafts. We will be alright,” Harry whispered, his lips brushing against Louis’ temple as he buried his nose into Louis’ hair, the strands slightly damp from sweat, but still smelled like the Louis that Harry had gotten used to.

“It was terrifying, Harry. To see her all gutted like that. I mean, just a few days ago I was talking with her at the rope tying station, talking about what it would be like if we didn’t get chosen, you know?” Louis rambled, his words slightly muffled by Harry’s shirt.

“I understand, Lou,” Harry said, pressing a light kiss to Louis’ temple as he pulled away, still keeping Louis at arms length, ready to pull him back in if another tear leaked from his eye. Harry could barely see Louis in the dark lighting, but he could see worry in his eyes and the frightened posture he had.

“I’ll be fine, Harry. I just need to sleep. Do you think you could take watch? I’ll feel better if you’re watching out for me,” Louis whispered, his hand snaking forward to grab Harry’s wrist.

“Of course,” Harry said, walking back to their nest of sleeping bags. Louis snuggled up in his while Harry sat outside of his, his back pressed to the wall of the Cornucopia. Louis put his head in Harry’s lap, snuggling against him. Harry placed his hand on Louis’ side, right on his ribs, feeling every time he took a breath. He felt as Louis’ heart rate slowed down from the race it had just been in. Harry couldn’t help but feel calm inside, even though there was a storm outside their safe haven.

***

In the morning, with Louis too emotionally drained and Cartana bedridden with sickness, Harry went out to get some form of food. Now, he wasn’t the greatest candidate for this, considering the fact that he tripped over his own feet every second, but he was the only one capable of finding food at this moment. As Harry ventured from the Cornucopia, hoping not to cross paths with anyone, had Louis’ spear in one hand and one of his own knives in the other. He crossed the boundary between field and woods, glancing behind him. Louis was standing at the Cornucopia entrance, a sleepy look on his face. Harry smiled and lifted his hand in a half wave. Harry pushed further into the forest, looking for something edible.

It was only a bit into the forest when a rabbit popped up from a hole in the ground, and before it could think about moving, Harry had already shoved the spear through the rabbits body, blood pooling out onto the ground. As Harry pulled the rabbit upwards, blood dripped onto the ground, pooling near his feet. Harry suppressed a gag, holding the rabbit as far away from him as possible as he walked back towards the Cornucopia. Knowing that Louis probably couldn’t stomach it, Harry did his best at skinning the poor rabbit, making sure the paws and head were gone from the body before bringing the bloody mess back to a waiting Louis, with a fire going and nothing in the pot.  

“Wow, Harry. That is a bloody mess. Did you make sure to remove the organs and such?” Louis asked, glancing between Harry’s face and the bloody carcass in his hand. Harry immediately turned around, slightly embarrassed, and walked back to the forest’s edge, slicing the rabbit up its belly, the guts spilling out almost immediately. Harry cut any ties, trying to be more medical and aim for precision. He brought the now disemboweled rabbit back to Louis, who immediately placed it in the pot.

“I’m hoping the pot will cook it up alright, but we may need to cut it up and put it into soup if it doesn’t cook how it should,” Louis reasoned, pulling a knife out of his jacket and prodding the rabbit with it, the knife slicing cleanly through the superficial muscle. “This also isn’t too bad for your first time preparing a rabbit, by the way. Good job making sure all the skin got off. I would’ve died if I got a mouthful of fur while eating.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry said, grimacing at the rabbit in the pot. He put aside his bad thoughts and instead focused on the matter at hand. “So, El just disappeared?” Harry asked, looking at Louis’ face. Louis didn’t look up from the fire, just simply nodding.

“We won’t know if she is dead until tonight. All I know is that Goldie’s face will be in the sky tonight. She was a bitch, and I hated her, but she didn’t deserve a death as indignified as that,” Louis said finally after a long pause, choosing his words carefully.

“I thought we should move camp,” Harry said in response, looking Louis in the eye. “Goldie died not to far from here. I don’t feel safe. After breakfast, we should pack and move downhill. Hopefully there is something better down there,” Harry added as Louis’ expression changed from calm to confused to concerned, his brow furrowing, the wrinkle in his forehead deepening considerably.

“I just want this to all be over, Harry,” Louis whispered solemnly, looking down into the pot.

Harry reached out and grabbed Louis’ hand, holding it between his own as he stepped towards Louis. “Me too. But we can’t change the past, and we have to keep moving forward. I say we find a nice area down by the river and wait it out,” Harry reasoned, his thumb stroking across the back of Louis’ hand gently, rubbing circles into the smooth skin.

“Okay. After breakfast. Then we can go. We can go as far as you want, Haz,” Louis said, the nickname falling from his lips easily. “Whatever you want. I’d follow you anywhere,” Louis added, looking up at Harry, the fondness in his face so apparent. Harry couldn’t help but smile at him, pulling him closer. Louis slotted underneath Harry’s arm, with Harry’s arm draping across his shoulder casually, his fingertips dancing along the cold plastic jacket.

Coincidentally, or maybe not, a parachute came floating down from the sky, the silver parachute almost falling into the fire. Louis pulled away to snatch it, yanking the parachute away from the flame. He pulled the parachute off of the silver metal container, handing the useless parachute to Harry. Smoothly, Louis opened the container, with a smaller metal container of rice inside. It seemed to be about a cup of rice, but Louis knew it could be a whole meal.

“Better than nothing,” Harry said with a shrug, waiting until Louis tucked the rice into his backpack before pulling him close again, his hand pulling Louis’ shoulders close to him. They watched the rabbit cook, holding eachother tight, with Louis about to fall apart and Harry withstanding the pressure.

***

Cartana was most definitely getting worse. She had a redness around her eyes and sallowness in her cheeks that couldn’t possibly be a normal symptom. She was shaking almost the whole time they walked, shivering despite the fact that she was wearing lots of clothes and the temperature was warming up. Louis couldn’t help but feel bad for her, knowing that one of the strongest, most talented person in this competition was sick with something more than the flu.

Harry was leading the way, taking charge. He was taking care of sickly Cartana and broken Louis. It was a reversal of their roles since a few days ago, with Louis taking care of Harry and Cartana. He couldn’t believe how much had changed in those few days, with Harry growing into a strong young man, Louis finding his heart inside, and Cartana going from bad to worse.

At a few points, they had to stop and wait for Cartana to stop and catch her breath. She complained of her lungs being on fire, and was limping quite a bit on her left leg. Her right leg was almost always being drug forward uncomfortably, and by the time they had traveled three hours, she was barely moving on her leg. Harry looked at Louis, who in turn, looked at Cartana with worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked Cartana, moving past Louis to where Cartana was standing, her weight primarily on her left leg.

“Got whacked in the leg when fighting with Goldie. I think she hit me pretty hard, otherwise it wouldn’t hurt this bad. Moving around hurts more than standing still,” Cartana moaned, her voice raspy. Her breathing was hard, causing her to gasp for air after only a few sentences. She waited for her breathing to slow to normal before continuing. “I can’t manage to catch my breath. My heart feels like it is trying to escape my chest. I just can’t even move without hurting myself.” Cartana took a deep breath after every sentence, her body swaying slightly. Before Harry could offer condolences, or even put another word in, the whooshing sound of an arrow and the sound of an arrow piercing flesh filled Harry’s ears, followed by Cartana looking at her chest, the tip of an arrow poking out just to the left of her sternum. She gasped for breath, wheezing, are being forced out of her lungs, but nothing entering her lungs.

“Fuck,” Louis muttered, rushing forward to catch Cartana as she fell forward. His hands wrapped around her waist, slowly lowering her to the ground. Harry stared dumbfounded at the spot where she was shot, his eyes wide with shock. “Get down, Harry! The assailant could still be out there,” Louis added, grabbing Harry’s pant leg and pulling him downward. Harry collapsed to the ground, on his hands and knees, his body folded in on itself, trying not to touch Cartana’s still body. “Harry, grab Cartana’s backpack. Cut it off if you have to. We are getting out of here _now_ ,” Louis commanded, shoving at Harry’s shoulder until he started moving, pulling out a knife to cut the pack off of Cartana’s back, her body still fluid and liquid with life even though her heart had stopped beating. Blood was pouring out of her wound, coating Harry’s and Louis’ hands as they turned her over, Harry working with a knife to slice the straps. Louis popped his head up like a prairie dog, his eyes searching for a human body, for anything out of the ordinary.

“Got it,” Harry said, handing Louis the backpack, standing up slowly. The second he was standing, he motioned for Louis to stand, starting to walk forward. After a moment, they heard a rustle of trees behind them, and with a single, glance, Louis saw the boy from 11, his eyes wild with fear and anger. Louis started running, past Harry, running for his life. Catching his clue, Harry started running too, following Louis as closely as he could. They ran downhill, Louis slipping on rocks occasionally, and Harry slipping on more. By the time they made it to the bottom of the long slope, a trip that they hadn’t even planned making today, they were both feeling quite worn out. It wasn’t as if the slope was long, it was just slow going. They went faster by running and slipping down the steeper parts. They also appeared to have lost the boy from 11.

First thing Harry did was walk right up to the slow flowing stream and wade in up to his knees, reaching down to wash the blood off of his hands. The sun had started to emerge, which warmed Harry’s body, but not the water. Louis did the same, wading in with his shoes and all, trying to get as much blood as possible off of him. They stayed silent, not talking about the death chase they just encountered, or the death of Cartana, or how El was still missing and could possibly be dead.

“How many are left?” Harry asked, the first words he had spoken since the started downhill.

“Probably about 9 or 10 of us now. They sure are burning through us quick this year,” Louis told him, looking at him. Louis couldn’t help but feel his mortality heavy on his shoulders. He also couldn’t help but notice the curl of Harry’s hair or the red of his lips. “You’re beautiful,” Louis blurted out, speaking his mind. He enjoyed the surprised gasp that escaped Harry’s lips, and the blush that crawled up his neck to settle on his cheeks.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Harry said in response, his words slow and measured. He stared at Louis, who looked away embarrassed. Before Louis could take his statement back-- and he was just about to-- Harry leaned over and kissed his cheek, right on his cheekbone. Louis turned to look at him, a smile blooming on his face.

“You just kissed my cheek,” Louis deadpanned, his face blank of emotion. He broke into a grin, throwing his arms around Harry and pulling him into a hug. “I knew you liked me,” Louis whispered into his ear, Harry’s hair tickling his nose. He held Harry for a long moment, focusing on the way Harry’s large hands wrapped around his waist and how his body felt. Louis took that moment to forget about the Games and focus on Harry and what they could’ve been.

***

They were uninterrupted for the rest of the day and into the night, with Louis catching a fish and roasting it, and Harry scouting out a good place for them to sleep. After they finished the fish and ate a few berries which Louis claimed were edible, they walked upstream until there were rocks that started to get bigger, and a small willow with branches hanging down to the ground. After determining that nothing was inside the walls of branches and leaves, they entered the dome of a willow tree, setting their stuff at the base. Louis waited outside for the faces in the sky, while Harry made a nest with the fallen leaves.

“Just Cartana and Goldie. No Eleanor. Guess she lived,” Louis reported, joining Harry underneath the willow. Harry was laying on his side, his back pressed against the willow tree.

“Can we sleep now?” Harry asked tiredly, patting the space in front of him.

“You sleep, I’ll take guard. We can switch off later,” Louis said, getting on his hands and knees to crawl in with Harry, his entire back pressed against Harry’s front. Harry’s free arm wrapped around Louis’ waist, his palm laying flat against his stomach. He could hear Harry’s breath slowing down as he fell asleep, his fingers twitching against Louis’ stomach.

***

They stayed near the tree the next day, with Harry being a lazy bum and waiting at the trunk of the tree while Louis proper cleaned and cooked some form of turkey like bird. All Harry did was make some rice, which they had with the bird, the juices from the bird soaking into the rice. They complimented each other, with the bird being juicy and oily and the rice being quite dry. Then, Louis spent the afternoon braiding leaves and flowers into Harry’s hair, weaving the stems in with the strands as he tugged the hair into braids. In turn, Harry massaged Louis’ shoulders as a thank you for the food and for the braids.

Overall, their day was just filled with long conversations and gentle, useless touches and the inklings of love strung between them like string, tying them together even further with each hour that they spent together. Their willow tree was magical as the sun rose overhead, illuminating the leaves but keeping them cool and dry.

That night, after their magical day together, there were no faces in the sky. Louis couldn’t help but be worried, but still snuggled up to Harry’s front anyways. Harry fell asleep quickly, as usual, but Louis couldn’t help but ponder his life.

***

Louis woke up with a start just as the sun was rising. The peculiar thing was, he could see the sun rising. And he could see the gap where someone had pushed the branches out of the way, leaving a gaping hole that he knew he didn’t put there. He sat up quickly, pulling the knife from his belt and wielding it in front of him temporarily, until he had his spear in hand. Silently, Louis stood up, but he could feel something missing: Harry. Harry wasn’t in his sleeping bag. And a knife was gone from where it usually lay next to their sleeping bags.

Louis burst through the hole in the branches, his eyes searching wildly for Harry. He didn’t see him in the area, but then again, it was still dark and it was quite hard to see anything. He tried to make his eyes adjust to the dark, so he could pick out the familiar shape that was Harry, but his eyes weren’t adjusting fast enough for his liking. Louis started breathing hard, his eyes searching every inch of the forest for any sign of Harry.

Louis heard the thump of something hitting the ground, and moved to the left, towards the sound. He could see two figures, one laying on the ground and one standing up, a knife in hand. Louis held the spear in front of him, ready to attack at any moment. His foot stepped on a branch, and the loud crack of the branch breaking caught the figures attention. It was Harry, his eyes finding Louis’ almost immediately.

“Oh, Harry,” Louis breathed, walking towards him. Harry walked towards Louis, quickly closing the twenty meters between them. Harry’s arms wrapped around Louis’ shoulders, with Louis’ arms hugged tight against Harry’s waist, their bodies flush with each other. Somewhere in the background was the sound of the cannon, but both Harry and Louis weren’t paying attention, just breathing each other in.

“Oh, Lou. He’s gone now. The guy from one. I killed him. I don’t even feel bad, Lou, because he was talking about how both of us should die. He called us faggots, Louis. I couldn’t just leave him be if he was threatening you, and-” Harry said, his voice speeding up with each word.

Louis cut him off with a kiss, pressing his lips to Harry’s in their first real kiss. Harry sunk into the kiss, his hands reaching up to cradle Louis’ face gently, his thumbs stroking across Louis’ sharp cheekbones. Louis’ fingers traced circles on Harry’s back, his fingers slipping beneath Harry’s coat to touch bare skin. Their lips slid together like two puzzle pieces, slotting together perfectly.

Louis didn’t know how long they kissed. It could have been seconds or minutes, or even hours, but Louis knew that he had found what he wanted in the world, right with him and Harry. He pulled away, tucking his head into Harry’s chest, a smile on his face that reached ear to ear. Harry didn’t say anything, and neither did Louis, pleased in just eachothers company. Louis waited for the sound of the hovercraft picking up the guys body, but he realized they might be too close still, less than 10 meters away.

“Let’s go cut the pack off of the guy, alright? See if he has any food. Then we can head out, because if he is out there, then there is another Career just waiting for us,” Louis said, pulling away from Harry. He strolled over to the dead body casually while inside his heart was hammering in his chest. He pulled his knife out, cutting the straps of the backpack in front, lifting his body to slide it out from underneath him. The backpack was soaked in blood, along with the entire torso of the body. Louis had to admit, Harry did a fine job of killing him. This guy was most definitely dead.

When Louis turned back around, Harry was in the same place, watching Louis blankly. When Louis held the bloody pack up and smiled, Harry smiled back, a bit dead in the eyes. Louis couldn’t help but feel that their innocence, whatever they had left, had slipped away in the time that they had spent in the Games. “Let’s just get outta here, alright?” Louis said, his hand snaking into Harry’s jacket as he wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist. He held the bloody backpack away from them, heading back towards the stream as he steered Harry along, Harry leaning heavily on him.

“Crap, Lou. Why does everything have to be like this?” Harry asked, his voice gravelly with sorrow as he breathed heavily in and out. “Can we enjoy what time we have together?” Harry asked, his hand resting on Louis’ shoulder.

“Of course, love,” Louis said, squeezing Harry’s hip tighter.

***

They saw him in the sky that night, like they thought they would. They cuddled near a different tree, Harry taking first watch over Louis. Louis only woke up when he heard the loud snap of a twig not to far from where he was sleeping. With a start, Louis jumped up, pulling his spear up with him. There was almost nothing of use in the bloody backpack, so Louis didn’t have any new weapons or anything. Just the spear.

Almost afraid to leave Harry, Louis started to circle around the tree, glancing back and forth between the forest that just started to illuminate with dawn and the sleeping Harry who deserved sleep more than Louis did. Louis even ventured out further, but no more than 15 feet from the tree. Louis heard another snap and whirled around, faced with the boy from 3, his wicked grin accentuated by the blood splattered onto his face. Louis recalls his name to be Robin, the name of a bird, which made Louis laugh the first time he met him. Throughout training, Robin would always go much harder on the training guards than the rest of the tributes, as if he was trying to physically hurt them. Louis didn’t think anything of it, partly because of his short height and lack of muscle, but with the fury in his eyes, Louis nearly stopped breathing.  

Before Louis could register anything, Robin stabbed his sword into Harry’s sleeping body, plunging it deep through to the other side, blood seeping out of the wound slowly. He twisted the sword to the left, then to the right, making the wound large and gaping, Harry’s body already stilled with death. With shock, Louis dropped to his knees, his mouth hanging open, his breath coming hard and fast. His hands clutched at his throat, with him suddenly not able to breath. He couldn’t concentrate on what was going on in front of him, instead staring at Harry’s still body, filled with life just moments before.  

“Fuck you, Louis. Glad I had a chance to destroy half of your disgusting homo relationship,” Robin sneered, looking at Louis. “I’m going to leave you alive, you faggot. Then you can suffer for your sins,” Robin added before dashing away, his feet kicking up dirt.  

Louis never even got the chance to tell Harry that he loved him. Louis knew it for sure, the moment Harry kissed him, that he loved Harry. Maybe in a child-like, puppy love way, but he loved Harry nonetheless. Harry was the first and only boy to lust after Louis the same way Louis had lusted after him. It made Louis’ heart shatter into a million pieces as that cannon echoed off of the trees, signaling that Harry really was dead, and not just fatally injured. Quickly, Louis scuttled over to Harry’s body, pressing his hand against the still bleeding wound as if to shove Harry’s blood back inside of him.

“Harry, you can’t be dead. You can’t,” Louis sobbed, his tears leaking down onto his hands and Harry’s limp body. Louis sobbed heavily, pressing his face into the crook of Harry’s neck that Louis didn’t ever have a chance to familiarize himself with. “Baby, you can’t leave me,” Louis sobbed into Harry’s still pliant neck. “I don’t know if I can handle it without you,” Louis added finally, his body curling in on itself, his knees pressed tight to his chest. Almost robotically, Louis positioned Harry’s body flat, crossing his arms over his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to Harry’s still lips. Louis’ tears dripped down onto Harry’s face, making it seem as if Harry was crying.

Louis couldn’t bring himself to look at the still body of Harry’s anymore, turning away and leaving, not even bothering to take Harry’s backpack. Louis didn’t want it anyway. Louis wanted to remember Harry as the living, breathing boy that had treated Louis kindly. Louis wanted to remember Harry with life in his eyes and a smile on his rose red lips and a flush to his dimpled cheeks. Louis didn’t want to think about the stillness of his chest, or the blood of Harry’s on his hands. Louis just wanted to rewind the clock, maybe protect Harry more or wake him up when he decided to get up. Even just keep his eye on him the entire time.  

With a choke, Louis started to walk away, trying to contain himself as he walked away from the dead body that Louis had considered to be the best thing to ever happen to him.

***

After about two hours of aimlessly walking in the stream with his feet freezing and wet, Louis came to a junction where the stream split into two streams, one leading further downhill and one leading on the same path. All Louis could think about was how much he hated Robin and how much he wanted Harry back with him. With thoughts buzzing in his head and no real reason to continue moving, Louis sat in the most shallow part of the stream, the cold water numbing his but almost instantly. Louis was attempting to come up with a way of hunting down and killing Robin, killing him brutally just as Robin had killed Harry. Louis was actually kind of glad that Harry was asleep when Robin killed him, because Louis would never have wanted Harry to feel that kind of pain, the pain of death.

Louis knew there and then that he had to kill Robin. It was the only way to make his experience in the games better than it had been. Killing Robin would be the justice that Harry deserved. Louis would kill Robin, or die trying. With a huff, Louis set out with more determination, his feet stomping firmly in the stream as he moved along it, his eyes angry with hatred of the games and sorrow with the death of Harry.

It seemed that only moments, or maybe hours later, Louis came upon a group of tributes, El sitting amidst Robin and the remaining female tributes, they’re bodies shaking with laughter. El looked slightly uncomfortable, but laughed anyways, her body shaking with the tremors of giggles.

“I’m glad I killed those stupid fags. Glad that the twink has to hurt. I don’t want them to win. I want them to suffer for their sins. Their disgustingness is a disgrace on this world. I mean, am I right?” Robin said, slapping his knee. Everyone nodded in agreeance, they’re faces smiling in the midday sun.

Louis could barely contain himself as he circled closer, ducking behind bushes as he neared closer, trying to find a way to kill Robin before Robin could say anything so hurtful about Louis and Harry again. Louis could feel the hate bubble in his veins as it rose to the surface, the anger rolling off of his skin in the sweat beads that had started to drip from his body. His spear in one hand, his knife in the other, his backpack hidden beneath the bush, Louis started on his suicide mission, the picture of Harry smiling and alive stuck in his brain as he moved forward stealthily. He flung a rock to his left, the sound crackling against the dried leaves. It caused Robin to stand, his sword in hand.

“Calm down, Robin. Its probably just a squirrel or something,” Eleanor said, her voice even and sweet. Almost as if she hadn’t betrayed the group.

“Shut up, princess. Maybe you are planning for your stupid twink friend to come and kill us. That’s it, isn’t it? For your twink friend to kill me? Well, fuck that, El,” Robin said, strutting towards her, his sword in hand. She held her hands out in front of her, scooting backward, moans escaping from her lips instead of words.

With a single punch, El landed on her knees, doubling over with pain. “How d’you like that?” Robin said, stabbing his hand through her outstretched hand, pinning it to the ground. She let out a loud screech, a painful sound that had even Louis aching to help her, despite her betrayal. With a swift motion, Robin’s foot flicked upward, kicking her face upwards, her uninjured hand coming up to cup her chin, blood leaking from her mouth. “Like that? Think I want to kill you?” Robin said, swinging his sword up. In one smooth swing, Robin swung his sword horizontal, slicing through Eleanor’s neck cleanly, her head falling down and rolling a few feet, knocking into a tree, blood spurting out of her severed neck. Louis couldn’t hold in a gasp, but his small noise was canceled out by the loud screech one of the other girls let out.

“The fuck, Robin? This wasn’t the plan. The plan was to keep her until later because she was weak. She was an easy kill, and you just decided to kill her now? What the fuck? Now, people will hear the cannon,” she said just as the cannon went off, loud and immediate.

Without wasting a second, Louis jumped up and ran forward, his spear in hand, starting to swing it forward to stab it into Robin. Robin’s hand flew back and hit Louis square in the chest, sending him flying backwards, landing on the ground roughly with the air knocked out of his lungs.

“And the twink is back,” Robin said without turning around, the girls sitting their with their mouths agape.

“Shit,” Louis muttered, trying to stand up. Before he could, Robin swiveled around and his foot connected with Louis’ stomach, sending him back down, the air forced from his lungs yet again. Louis sputtered and coughed up air and mucus from his lungs, trying to get airflow.

“Think you can just come in and kill me,” Robin said, his face twisted into a wicked grin. He stomped on Louis’ outstretched leg, a sickening crunch coming from Louis’ lower leg. Louis screamed, sitting up to clutch at his leg. In turn, Robin reached out and punched Louis’ square in the nose, causing Louis to fall backwards so he was laying on the ground, his hands clutching his nose with blood spurting everywhere.

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this!” one of the girls yelled, standing up with her backpack strapped onto her back. “I’m leaving. I hope you fucking die in a hole, Robin,” she added, leaving, the other girl following her.

“Good, I didn’t need you anyway!” Robin called after them. Louis was writhing on the ground in pain, his body trying its best to send chemicals to his injured areas, but nothing was happening, just a more sickening sense of pain.

With a growl, Robin sat on Louis’ stomach, causing him to sputter. He punched Louis’ face once, twice, three times until Louis could barely think, let alone fight back, his arms limp at his sides. His leg was twisted at an odd angle, and he couldn’t do more but gasp for air, his nose clogged with blood and his mouth swollen and hurt from Robin’s fists striking his face repeatedly. He looked up at Robin, one eye swollen with pooled blood, the other slightly blurry.

Robin just smiled sinisterly at him, his eyes wide with excitement. “I’m glad I get to kill you. Maybe it will show a statement to other freaks like you,” Robin said, his fist coming up to strike Louis’ face again, knocking it to one side. “And then maybe I won’t have to pretend to like you stupid faggots,” Robin added, punctuating his sentence with another punch. “Glad that you’re going to be dead, homo,” Robin said finally, reaching over to where Louis dropped his knife earlier. With one motion, the knife was in his hand and hovering over Louis’ chest, directly above his heart. Louis could barely move, his arms heavy with tiredness as he tried to shove the knife away, his eye blurring with tears. He could barely see Robin when Robin plunged the knife into Louis’ heart, stopping it.

Only moments later, a cannon went off.     

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry??? I had so much fun writing this and I really hope you liked it! Leave me a comment if you liked it or if you want more of my dramatic ramblings! xx


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